Autumn, when the world falls at your feet

to worship you with decay

tumbling of dogs and children both

scenes of wind and stunted growth

when sunlight dapples the day. 

 

That's when as like as not you feel

the touch of nature's solemn pride

the retreat of roots beneath the soil

in trenchant ways their downward coil

then put their tricks aside.

 

And all God's newly minted souls

seek to have their say

to teach the wary and the wise

that fantasy wears winter's guise

for a Christmas roundelay.