With the Falling of Leaves

With the falling of leaves, so leaves the fall. Aware is the forest, a chill in the air. Temperatures falling; the birds heed the call Harsh times ahead: a winter despair. Gone are the bright days, airy and fair. Squirrels scavenge acorns, storing their haul. Braving the open floor, meeting the dare. With the falling of leaves, so leaves the fall. All growth has stopped or slowed to a crawl. Birds are migrating, they only know where. Shadows come early, thrown long and tall. Aware is the forest, a chill in the air. Exposed and so naked, their branches all bare, Feeling her curse, entrapped in her thrall, Trees know her misery, sadly aware. Temperatures falling; the birds heed the call. Winds that are biting, bitter with gall. Cold are the nights now, much harder to bear. Dead on the forest floor, leaves cast a pall. Harsh times ahead: a winter despair. Stormy high winds whip through on a tear. Indian summer has long gone awol. Descent into winter, indecent and bare. Winter is knocking right down the hall, With the falling of leaves... ---------- First attempt at a Rondeau Redouble, jury out on this one...