It’s Autumn, Thank God
This is my favourite time of year,
The time I was born.
All of a sudden it seems,
The leaves that don the mature Silver Birch on our road have turned brown,
And the wind is up to bring them to ground.
Extra layers are pulled from wardrobes the length and breadth of the country,
As Summer takes a back seat.
It’s Autumn, thank god.
And all that was bright and shiny is dulled,
And things that were made come to…