October
~Rose Fyleman
The summer is over,
The trees are all bare,
There is mist in the garden and frost in the air.
The meadows are empty
And gathered the sheaves-
But isn't it lovely kicking up leaves!
John from the garden
Has taken the chairs;
It's dark in the evening
And cold on the stairs.
Winter is coming and everyone grieves-
But isn't it lovely kicking up leaves!
The summer is over,
The trees are all bare,
There is mist in the garden and frost in the air.
The meadows are empty
And gathered the sheaves-
But isn't it lovely kicking up leaves!
John from the garden
Has taken the chairs;
It's dark in the evening
And cold on the stairs.
Winter is coming and everyone grieves-
But isn't it lovely kicking up leaves!
