Fond Farewell
by Howard Osborne

Amidst the hundreds of scattered acorns
That one may have even heard dropping down
Each like a jewel, the forest floor adorns

For many, the fallen leaves wear the crown
Floating gently down, as they always will
Undulated, yet all now golden brown

Most, like an autumn carpet, laying still
With occasional rustlings in the breeze
Sad at season’s end, they have had their fill

Their gentle hues still seem anxious to please
As a collection, under the oak trees