I probably enjoy scrapbooking the autumn season far more than I love scrapbooking any other time of year. With the snow and ice all around me, I actually miss the natural colors of fall. The greens and browns, the oranges and reds. They are beautiful to look at, and I absolutely love incorporating them into my layouts. It’s not only challenging but it’s fun and takes me back to those crisp autumn days before the white blanket covered my world.
Our leaves in Missouri changed early this year, so I was able to snap many pictures for several weeks of the constant changes. I believe my camera captured most of the beauty and now I am left with countless pictures of pumpkins and leaves, kids raking, and jumping and the wonderful colors of the changing leaves.
I don’t have much trouble getting inspired at this time of year. The warmth of my cozy home, the smell of hot chocolate or warm brownies fresh from the oven. The sound of the crunching leaves as I walk across the yard to get the mail. All music to my ears, or eyes in some ways.
I thought I’d share a couple of cute poems that I have for autumn. Probably after reading them it will be apparent what my occupation was for many years. I was a preschool teacher and many of these poems were poems we learned in class. However, I never would share them if I didn’t love them so much. They are perfect for scrapbook pages with children. Enjoy!
Leaves, leaves, everywhere –
On my hands, my feet, my hair!
On my shoulders, on my toes.
One right here upon my nose!
Leaves, leaves, everywhere –
On the ground and in the air.
—-
Autumn leaves are falling down,
Orange, yellow, red and brown.
See them blowing all around,
Whirling, swirling to the ground.
—-
Raking Leaves
I rake the leaves
When they fall down,
In a great big pile.
And when there are
Enough of them,
I jump on them a while.
—-
Autumn Leaves
Leaves are floating softly down;
Some are red and some are brown.
The wind goes swish through the air;
When you look back, there are no leaves there.
—-
Autumn
Autumn winds begin to blow;
Colored leaves fall fast and slow.
Twirling, whirling all around
Till at last, they touch the ground.
—-
My poor back will surely break,
If one more leaf I have to rake.
Crusty, rusty brown leaves!
Dusty, blustery red leaves!
Crunching, bunching,
scrunching beneath my feet.
In a pile of crispy leaves,
I’ll surely find a welcome seat.
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