Falling

An Autumnal mood poem for the season, using a rondelle as the form.

Falling

It was a dying back, those Autumn days
Leaves falling softly, dry and brown
The Green Knight wears a golden crown
Sunsetting earlier, with pink hued rays

Now cider drinking, and harvest praise
Sing, drink, dance: a puritan’s frown
It was a dying back, those Autumn days
Leaves falling softly, dry and brown

Walking the forest track, olden ways
The dryad wearing her golden gown
Time to let go, with one final gaze
On the cusp of Winter, counting down
It was a dying back, those Autumn days