The wind has come a-chuckling
Through the autumn trees.
The leaves are all a-tremble
For fear of any breeze.
Just a tiny puff of air
Can cause them each to fall,
And in a little while
None will be left at all.
Thus autumns’ gracious colour
Will lie at each trees’ feet,
As branches brown then wait
Winters’ icy grip to greet.
from heart to head 