Falling Leaves

Leaves are falling under the tree,
blowing, swirling in the breeze.
They look too pretty to rake,
so maybe I could just take a break.
But they will keep piling up,
so I have to stop loafing about.
Do I really have to rake these,
I wonder aloud?
Maybe they will blow to the next town.
Maybe if I close my eyes
they will disappear,
but when I open them
they are still here.
So I take up the rake
and hoping I soon can take a break.
Maybe I can take a break at 3,
or maybe at 2,
no, I really have a lot to do.
So I rake the leaves into a pile,
feeling like I've run a mile.
Telling myself this is fun, fun, fun,
as I watch more leaves come swirling down.