When the fingers of autumn start probing,
And night starts to steal from the day.
Birds start testing their wings for a journey,
Then mass to fly south for a holiday.
The gardens, cared for all summer,
Tend to change to a soft richer colour.
Apple trees start to look what they are,
With their fruit full grown and mature.
The deciduous trees change their colour,
Moving through greens, yellows and reds.
And finally deciding to shed their leaves,
And look forward to a winter in bed.
This earth tilts slowly away from the sun,
As the wheat in the fields finally ripens.
The winds start to move away from the south,
And the stars in the sky start to brighter.
The early mornings have a nip in the air,
And the extremities of the ears turn red.
Balaclavas and scarves come out of the drawer,
And a heavier duvet goes on the bed.
Thank you for four lovely seasons,
Culminating in a nocturnal sleep,
That builds and conserves one’s energy,
That bursts into Spring with a leap.