Pedals blowing, ebb and flowing,
dancing in the wind,
stretching up toward the mid-day sun.
Little clouds and falling leaves before you.
Smell the cooling of the breeze
and chimneys blowing smoke.
Evergreens remaining ever green.
Autumn is the season
into which you have been born;
Mom and dad are reaping
what they’ve sown.
Harvesters of joy we have become!