As a watery sun dispels the night An arrowhead of geese in flight In raucous chorus rise to stir The chill, fresh morning air. Dark grey ghosts of trees arise From the heavy mist that lies Over the fields all ploughed anew And meadows bathed in dew. In the hedgerow rose hips glow While blackberries shrivel on the bough Among the yellowed crisping leaves In jewelled cobwebs sheathed. By the church a wayward breeze Passing through the ancient trees Sends the leaves with ne'er a sound Drifting to the ground. The world is still as the sun goes down With the last of summers songbirds flown To warmer climes in lands afar Beneath the southern stars As the swiftly fading light Surrenders to the shrouds of night A cold wind blows along the lane To whistle around the window panes. The nights grow long, and come the dawn Frost will crisp the cottage lawn And soon the winter's snow will lie Beneath a leaden sky. Farewell to you my halcyon days In vibrant coloured garb arrayed 'Til Nature with her palette true Paints the world anew. Terry Watkins |