The Leaves that Whistle

Handed down by:James Harvey

The other night while Rebecca was reading to Andersen, Jane was patiently waiting to be read to (I was away at a church meeting, not just being a bad dad) and while she was waiting she composed this beautiful poem.

The leaves in fall whistle
glide and fly when the wind calls.
Then they get in their coats of red and brown
and land upon a branch.
They fall because they need to rest.
They get scooped up and put into a lovely pile of leaves.
They settle down to take a rest
but then kersplat they get smashed from littel children.