Smells in the autumn wood

   
There are smells in the autumn wood    
Jack can't resist, rabbits older ,bolder    
run across his path, ferns less dense    
the path a mattress of leaves and twigs    
scents and odours, burrows new and deep.    
I hear  birds, but hardly  see,    
counter-point to rival Bach,.   
A symmetry of notes nature wrought    
times long ago ,unchanged, secure.    
We copy best we can, tune the lute    
to entertain  pixies in the wood    
but mornings' dawn in summertime    
when all are wake and yet to eat,    
more than worth the loss of sleep.  
Hear the pigeons' noisy flight ,the    
caw, caw of rooks untidy nests,    
coming here every year, each time    
build another nest to blow away.    
I come for entertainment, to think    
important thoughts for which    
there seems no time, until I find,    
among ferns and brambles    
falling trees and autumn mushrooms    
Moods  contradict my whims,      
leave behind  mull and rain,    
replete, for home,  
another day until I come again,    
a little wiser  ...  ... a little.  
I have  to learn, time is flying.