AUTUMN DAYS
Autumn days are here again,
And leaves drift down like coloured rain.
Leaving the trees naked dressed in bark,
Like ghostly figures swaying in the dark.
Conkers fall and cover the floor,
Young children collect them by the score.
Threading them on bits of string,
To play games of conkering.
On those Autumn Days.
Shorter days and longer nights,
Halloween and candle lights,
Flickering in large pumpkin heads,
Frightened children in their beds.
Autumn days are here once again,
The skies are dark with mist and rain.
Mushy leaves carpet the floor,
Now Jack Frost’s knocking at the door.
On those Autumn Days.
By
Alfred Weston
© Copyright Reserved 2003
Autumn days are here again,
And leaves drift down like coloured rain.
Leaving the trees naked dressed in bark,
Like ghostly figures swaying in the dark.
Conkers fall and cover the floor,
Young children collect them by the score.
Threading them on bits of string,
To play games of conkering.
On those Autumn Days.
Shorter days and longer nights,
Halloween and candle lights,
Flickering in large pumpkin heads,
Frightened children in their beds.
Autumn days are here once again,
The skies are dark with mist and rain.
Mushy leaves carpet the floor,
Now Jack Frost’s knocking at the door.
On those Autumn Days.
By
Alfred Weston
© Copyright Reserved 2003
If you prefer to send
a Donation via Cheque
Click Here
a Donation via Cheque
Click Here
