The dance of Autumn

The dance has started, the dance of Autumn,

The green has faded from the leaves,

The trees stand tall and wave their branches,

And clear, glass waters pool beneath.

The trees are decked with gold and red,

The music starts, and the dance begins.

The wind twirls partners round and round,

In a dance that seems to never end.

The leaves, the partners, spiral fast,

Their own moves somehow intertwined,

Like silken thread holds every one,

And moves them all in time.

The leaves swoop down and then soar high,

The sun sets in the sky,

The wind fades, and the partners rest,

Until the sun may rise.

Then up again! To dance all day,

While new partners join,

And the beauty is for all to see,

No one must pay a coin.

The older partners leave the dance,

And lay on barren ground,

To make a carpet for whoever,

Happens to come round.

Then the children come, with little rakes,

And a different dance begins,

The fallen partners pile together,

And the children jump right in.

The piles of leaves cushion the children,

As they dance in their own ways,

To jump on gentle leaves and then

To leave at the end of the day.

Too soon the dance comes to a close,

 For children often tire,

And fallen partners are put in bags,

And thrown into the fire.

The leaves that once shone gold and red,

Are now a murky brown,

And none dance gaily with the wind,

For they all have fallen down.

And so the Autumn dance ends,

The beauty hidden once again,

But, patient ones will keep good cheer,

For they know the dance is every year.

Copyright October 6, 2014 by Christina Gatchel. This post may not be copied or reproduced without express permission from the author.