Helen H. Moore

Fall is here.
Another year
is coming to an end.
Summer's finished,
Summer's gone,
Winter's round the bend.
Fall is piles of crunchy leaves,
orange, gold, and red.
Fall is sweaters with long sleeves
and blankets on the bed.
Fall is football,
Fall is pumpkins,
Fall's where summer ends.
And
Fall is coming back to school,
and seeing all my friends.

Irene B. Crofoot

Leaves are falling, soft as snowflakes,
Red and yellow, gold and brown;
The breeze laughs gaily in the treetops,
Shaking all the color down.

Leaves are covering the gardens
As my blanket covers me.
When cold winter comes, the flowers
Will be warm as warm can be.

anonymous

The leaves had a wonderful frolic.
They danced to the wind's loud song.
They whirled, and they floated, and scampered.
They circled and flew along.

The moon saw the little leaves dancing.
Each looked like a small brown bird.
The man in the moon smiled and listened,
And this is the song he heard.

The North Wind is calling, is calling,
And we must whirl round and round,
And then, when our dancing is ended,
We'll make a warm quilt for the ground.