brought undone by a group of children visiting the park. Watching them happily rolling and tossing, this favourite came to mind.Children In Autumn
Here, in the soft, sweet-smelling haze,
a maple stands alone, a blaze
of colour, stirring memories
of rustic lanes and giant trees;
and there, along the curb for miles--
the leaves raked up in equal piles.
Could there be anything we know
that can evoke the wondrous glow
of childhood more than trampling leaves?
How clearly, then, the soul perceives--
amid the miracle of fall,
that we are children, one and all.
Oh, let me never grow too old
to be bewitched by autumn's gold--
to share the overwhelming joy
within the heart of that small boy
who runs amuck when he perceives
these tempting, ordered piles of leaves.
Jean S. Platt
Back to the leaves!!!
Sue
