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.