Thursday, 27 September 2007


Swirling early morning mist and the
Hazy platinum sun,
The noticeable chill in the morning air
Tell us that autumn has come.

Underfoot the crunch of leaves
Brings with it the scent of autumn.
That nutty aroma of crushed acorns,
Evoking childhood memories
Of collecting autumn treasures.
Acorns, conkers and hazelnuts,
To fill a squirrel’s winter store.
Soft plump blackberries and sour crab apples
For making jam and golden pies.
Sycamore keys floating down like helicopters
Coming to rest amongst the crumpled leaves.

Fluffy old man’s beard covers the hedgerows which are hung
With scarlet chains of black bryony berries
And delicate webs laced with dewdrops in the still morning air.

The smell of autumn bonfires fills the air
Reminding us of the cold that winter will bring.
Changing the mellow autumnal days
Into cold grey ones, awaiting the arrival of spring.

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