Chilly winds from the east
Nip in the air as the leaves turn brown
And tumble from the trees
Beech masts as thick as a mat
Foretell of hard times to come
Conkers brown and shiny scattered round
Holly berries bending branches
Tell a tale of things to come
Grandmas coat with naphtha smell
Mothballs snowballs winter hell
All the signs that do foretell
That winter weathers on its way
Grandmas’ draws are here to stay
I was prompted to write this as it’s #NationalPoetryDay. By the obvious signs of a hard winter ahead and reports yesterday of scraping of the first frost from car windscreens.
3rd October 2019
