Evocation (Completed..!)

Dead leaves light, ready in frolick,
crisper than the best of chips.
With a crunchy sound you are crushed
into a thousand flickery pieces.

In a nice cookie's dark brown tone you
invite. If my sense hadn't meddled, my
sensibilities would have had you
popped in, my throat shall have choked!

Dry leaves on cobblestone paths
and on brown earth ready for the frosts.
Falling from tired branches with an ease that
fail with the words I have tried to wrought.

I pity you this autumn day for there
are no breezy winds to saunter you away-
To those cosy nooks you had sought
when fluttering, shivering from branches above.

Strewn around like warriors on a battle ground,
would you be turned into humus or fade off
like memories of kintergarden teachers
whose grandeur, age only seems to tear asunder?

Why oh crisp creatures do you with your
dark brown cookie colors wake up in me
a scent of Tragedy? Of no particular rhyme,
no reason but leave my full being lost and forlorn.

You are not to be blamed though as
Roschachs wouldn't be or a couple of
downed pegs couldn't be nor that simple strain
that made me cry alone in last year's rain.