The cherry tree is looking pale,
With yellow leaves, that fall like hail.
Decidedly, it’s looking thus
Because it is deciduous.
The wind that blows and takes them down,
And blows them all about the ground,
Has the chill of winter’s season,
And all these portents have a reason.
Squirrels gather nuts and seeds
To supply its winter needs.
The dormouse, introduced by Romans,
Already saw the winter omens
Way back in September time.
We saw no reason nor no rhyme
In its early bedtime ways,
But inner clocks know to count the days.
Conkers bursts their prickly shells,
A russet bounty in woods and dells.
Sunshine, lower in the sky,
Its daily sinking, passing by.
Soon the days, so dark and drear,
Will find us humans huddle near
A roaring fire, crackling wood,
Muffins, crumpets, oh, so good.
And so we seek, as cavemen old,
Wamth, comfort and solitude,
To battle out the age old changes,
Mother Nature rearrnges.
Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. November, 2013