Diary of a Countryside Lady 15.09.2010 @15.30
The nodding
Prodding
Heads of the sunflower,
Sheltered in the old folks' bower,
Say it's time to go.
Summer sure was slow.
Yet autumn is upon us now.
So let's bow
Out while the going's good.
'Twould
Be quite rude.
Not right,
To outstay our welcome.
North winds are a coming.
And what will 'poor robin do then,
Poor thing'?
'Twill bring
The snow,
Nipping,
Gripping,
Jack Frost.
He'll be so lost.
So arrivederci - till next year.
Catch you later,
Alligator.
Mellow,
Yellow.
They clasp
The final warmth.
Nod their final blast.
Mammoth flowers.
Not meant to last.
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