The leaves are dropping, trains are stopping
The traveller sighs and whines,
For work he’s late
He really hates
The leaves upon the line.
The leaves are falling, people sprawling
Although they’ve walked with care,
It’s causing slips
And broken hips
And pain that’s hard to bear.
The leaves descending, joy unending
Yellow, brown and gold,
A heavenly sight
Of colours bright
A pleasure to behold