Listen to the sound of fall
For far to many ignore its call;
With golden, crimson, rusted leaves,
It's the season to be wearing sleeves --
Yet no one seems to care at all.
Leaning against the kitchen wall,
Out the window I see nature's squall,
As the wind is said to be one of many thieves--
Listen to the sound...
The trees they might be oh so tall,
But in these times the branches seem so small;
For in the winds and in the cold, the bark grieves,
But this is not how the human eye perceives,
For if you had asked us, we'd say we could not recall.
Listen to the sound...
