Little bee a-buzzing mid the Ivy blooms. Gather sweetness now as Winter looms. Other blossom’s nectar all is spent. I watch and wonder just where Summer went.
I hardly noticed Summer tiptoe past. Long sunny days all slipped away so fast. Now Autumn’s here and Ivy bears its flower. Silent Winter watches from his icy tower.
What are you doing here on the ground? You should be up in your leafy bower. Were you told to get out and go somewhere else, For taking too long in the shower?
Don’t talk to me about autumn and such, It’s too soon to discuss that yet. Get back in your tree and don’t come down, ’til summer’s been back to pay off its debt.
When thistledown clouds the air, Autumn won’t have long to wait. Dandelions have lost their hair, Left with a stem and a bald pate. When at last September’s here, You’ll know this is back-end o’ year.
Days get short and nights close in, The sun no longer climbs so high. Flocks of rooks make such a din. Bracken leaves turn gold and die. Then you’ll know September’s here, And now this is back-end o’ year.
Hello Hills. Not seen you ’round for a gloomy while. Had rain on rain with dark grey skies in a tumbled pile. And clouds so low, I’m sure they dragged the bottom of their skirt. Right across our soggy field in all the muck and dirt.
Through sodden air, we couldn’t see the far side of the beck. Just raindrops driving, slanting down when I looked out to check. Yet, there you are, back in your place, now the rain is done Looking fresh and newly washed, stretched lazily in the sun.