Leaves falling from an oak tree,
spreading freckles on the green
Sun smiling through a cloud bringing warmth upon the scene
white sheep drifting across the blue herded by the breeze

Weeping softly as they go,
shedding tears upon the leaves
Summer is almost over,
fall is drawing nigh

The reaper with his scythe is waiting closely by
though his face looks very grim,
He has this job to do
all must return to mother earth,

To make room for the new
there is nothing new upon this earth,
All has been before
the angels smile upon your face

Wile death knocks at your door
a thousand years to us, is only a day to God
We are all endowed with a duel mind, the good and the bad
possessing earthly and Godly traits, the happy and the sad

There is not a perfect man on earth, none is good but God
we will awaken in his likeness
When the spirit leaves the sod