I love poetry. I have a English major.
That basically explains it. But, when the leaves start changing color and the air cools…there is one poem I think of. Poet George Cooper (1838-1927)wrote, “Come Little Leaves”. The first verse will especially stick in your head. How do I know? That is the verse I remember every fall. So, read the poem and go crunch in a few piles of leaves.
Come Little Leaves
“Come, little leaves,”
Said the wind one day,
“Come over the meadows
With me, and play;
Put on your dresses
Of red and gold;
Summer is gone,
And the days grow cold.”
Soon as the leaves
Heard the wind’s loud call,
Down they came fluttering,
One and all;
Over the meadows
They danced and flew,
Singing the soft
Little songs they knew.
Dancing and flying
The little leaves went;
Winter had called them
And they were content-
Soon fast asleep
In their earthy beds,
The snow laid a soft mantle
Over their heads.