Tumble, Tumble as leaves would crumble
Autumn begins and nature would humble.
An array of umbrellas in the park.
Colours of fire and colours of dark.
Rain will spill and roots will spoil.
Leaving spiders in annual turmoil.
Bobbing apples and rays of gold.
A new shade of world to behold.
A shift to cold breath,
The beauty in death.