My father raked up all the leaves,
He put them into piles.
There were so many leaves, it seemed
They stretched for miles and miles.

I took a running leap and jumped
Feet first into the leaves.
The pile was so enormous,
I was buried to my knees.

The leaves were different colours,
Like orange, red and yellow.
And when I jumped into the leaves,
I was a happy fellow.

But then my father burned the leaves,
They turned to smoky ashes.
And as they burned I seemed to see
Their colours in bright flashes.

Now all the autumn leaves are gone
And winter’s on its way.
But I’ll come back to rake the leaves
One crisp, cool autumn day.

©Karen Chappell