When Autumn Wind Goes Running It Does Some Magic Things. It Gives the Shadows Dancing Shoes

FALL

FLUENCY

POEMS & SONGS

Name:______

Autumn Wind

When autumn wind goes running
It does some magic things.
It gives the shadows dancing shoes,
It gives the bright leaves wings -
When autumn wind goes running.

It curls the bonfire's tail of smoke
And shares a little whispered joke
With cornstalks who delight to prattle,
It turns a seed pod into a rattle -
When autumn wind goes running.

The Leaves of the Trees
(to the tune of "The Wheels on the Bus")

The leaves of the trees turn orange and red
orange and red, orange and red
The leaves of the trees turn orange and red
All through the town.

The leaves of the trees come tumbling down
tumbling down, tumbling down
The leaves of the trees come tumbling down
All through the town.

The leaves on the ground go swish, swish, swish
Swish, swish, swish, swish, swish, swish,
The leaves on the ground go swish, swish, swish
All through the town.

by Irmgard Guertges

The Leaves are Falling Down
(to the tune of "The Farmer in the Dell)

The leaves are falling down
The leaves are falling down
School is here and fall in near
The leaves are falling down.

The leaves are falling down
The leaves are falling down
Some are red and some are brown
The leaves are falling down.

The leaves are falling down
The leaves are falling down
They tickle your nose and touch your toes
The leaves are falling down.

June Haggard

Autumn Bird Song

Over the housetops,
Over the trees,
Winging their way
In a stiff fall breeze.

A flock of birds
Is flying along
Southward, for winter,
Singing a song.

Singing a song
They all like to sing,
"We'll see you again
When it's spring, spring, spring."

Apple
(Tune: "BINGO")
I know a fruit that grows on trees,
An apple is its name, oh!
A-P-P-L-E
A-P-P-L-E
A-P-P-L-E
An apple is its name, oh!
In summer and in early fall
It's time to pick an apple!
A-P-P-L-E
A-P-P-L-E
A-P-P-L-E
It may be sweet or may be tart,
It's red, or green, or yellow!
A-P-P-L-E
A-P-P-L-E
A-P-P-L-E
A McIntosh or Granny Smith,
A Winesap or Delicious!
A-P-P-L-E
A-P-P-L-E
A-P-P-L-E
Make applesauce or apple juice
Or apple pie with apples!
A-P-P-L-E
A-P-P-L-E
A-P-P-L-E

Autumn-time is Coming
(sung to the tune of Frere Jacques)

Red leaves falling
Red leaves falling
On the ground
On the ground
Autumn-time is coming
Autumn-time is coming
All around
All around

Orange leaves falling
Orange leaves falling
On the ground
On the ground
Autumn-time is coming
Autumn-time is coming
All around
All around

Brown leaves scattered
Brown leaves scattered
On the ground
On the ground
Autumn-time is now here
Autumn-time is now here
All around
All around

Leaves by Elsie N. Brady

How silently they tumble down
And come to rest upon the ground
To lay a carpet, rich and rare,
Beneath the trees without a care,
Content to sleep, their work well done,
Colors gleaming in the sun.

At other times, they wildly fly
Until they nearly reach the sky.
Twisting, turning through the air
Till all the trees stand stark and bare.
Exhausted, drop to earth below
To wait, like children, for the snow.

A Johnny Appleseed Song
(sung to Do you Know the Muffin Man)
Do you know the apple man,
the apple man, the apple man?
Do you know the apple man?
He planted apple seeds.
He wore a pot upon his head,
upon his head, upon his head.
He wore a pot upon his head.
His name was Johnny Appleseed.
John Chapman was his real name,
his real name, his real name.
John Chapman was his real name;
But, we call him Johnny Appleseed.

Picking Apples
(the tune of Frere Jacques)
Picking apples, picking apples,
'Til we're done, 'til we're done,
Picking all the apples,
Picking all the apples,
'Til we're done, 'til we're done.
Climb a ladder, climb a ladder,
In a tree, in a tree
Hello, everybody;
Hello, everybody,
Look at me, look at me.
Making applesauce, making applesauce
Swish, swish, swish, swish, swish, swish
Pouring the applesauce,
Pouring the applesauce
In a dish, in a dish.
Eating applesauce, eating applesauce,
Yum, yum, yum; yum, yum, yum.
Eating all the applesauce,
Eating all the applesauce.
Now we're done, now we're done.

My Good Old Backpack

My backpack has a rip in it,
But I don't really care.
It hops with me, it jumps with me,
It goes 'most everywhere.

Sometimes it's filled with school stuff,
or balls, or special junk,
Sometimes my lunch bag opens up
and then it's full of gunk.

I tie on charms and key chains
so it jingles and it chimes.
Without my good old backpack,
I'd have an awful time.
-Betsy Franco

Whisky Frisky

Whisky Frisky,

Hippity-hop;

Up he goes

To the treetop!

Whirly twirly,

Round and round;

Down he scampers

To the ground.

Furly, curly,

What a tail!

Tall as a feather,

Broad as a sail!

Where’s his supper?

In the shell.

Snap, cracky,

Out it fell.