Pretty sights greet the vision,
as the leaves fall to the ground.
They scatter the pavements and the roads,
under foot a crunching sound.
Cool air swirls around in a breeze,
blowing up the crisped leaves.
Cars are parked over the top,
and we are watching the leaves drop.
Clouds of grey cover the sky,
the plants are reborn.
In the garden they come and go,
and when we mow get torn.
Your eyes are used to the season,
and your body adjusts.
It is repeated with a reason,
and rejuvenate themselves is a must.
Crunch and Ice and rain,
but it will come again.
The land is full of colour,
and it lines the lane.
The prettiness is pleasing to us.
We stroll through it without a fuss.
The Earth plods on with teaming life,
and it cuts through you like a knife.
Enjoy it every year.
The sights will be there soon.
When the sky is clear,
you see the crescent moon.
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