The leaves they dance upon the ground
pushed by the wind around and round
swirling, tumbling, flying high
to disappear into the sky
Autumn comes the days are closing
Flowers dead and decomposing
The storms they rage the wind blows gale
As the branches frantically flail
I huddle by my fireplace
The flames cast shadows on my face
I'm glad that I am here at home
And not out and about in this great storm