Autumn Leaves by Kelly Sandel

Autumn Leaves

by Kelly Sandel

The falling leaves of Autumn’s days,

The orange and gold and flaming red,

Recall to mind the perished days

Of long ago, ’fore old were dead.

But most distinctly in the fall

Are when the echoes come again.

Around the crackling fire we’d sit,

For swiftly came the twilight then.

So plainly can I hear it now,

The timeless tunes so often played

By Father on his fiddle there

Beside the fire in evening shade.

The fiddle laughed and danced with us

When Father played the jig and reel,

And then the shadows of the dark

Would so much more inviting feel.

Sometimes there’d be a ballad long;

We children listened quite enthralled,

Like we were with that chieftain’s host

When enemy vict’ry was forestalled.

And other times there’d be a tune T

hat with the wind would sob and wail

And send a shiver up the spine;

A feeling that would aft prevail.

Those cheerful nights are only memories,

The fiddle sings no more on eves;

But those long gone arise again

So clear—when fall the Autumn leaves.