Autumn

In honour of the fact that it’s national poetry day I’ve written a little something. Since it’s been a while since I last wrote a poem.

The season where the nights begin
to draw in.
Of woodland walks and the sound of
leaves crunching underfoot.
And the smell of wood smoke in
the air as I wander up my street.

Of bygone days when as a child I climbed trees and picked apples with my grandpa.
And went down the lane in a wheelbarrow cushioned with leaves.

Seeing the trees turn from green to golden shades of orange and burnt red.

Of evenings sat by the fire reading and feeling cosy with a mug of coco on the coffee table.

Oh autumn the season of natures splendour as though the countryside has turned into a living painting.
That I get to walk around freely.

Oh what a joy!

Carole Farish October 2014

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