November Time

The poem today is a simple seasonal one, it is about November. I don't know if people still gather leaves and make a bonfire of them, but they used to, I remember that. I can still recall that so very distinctive smell of the bonfires, and of course, the fireworks still go off every year around Guy Fawkes' Day.

November Time

Brown leaves fallen, cold air blows
November days, chimneys smoke
Leafless trees, no autumn rose
Acorns falling fast from the oak

Walk along the lanes, earth so damp
As mist and rain drench the land
Early evenings see early lamp
Fence shakes in wind, a final stand

Bonfires of leaves, smoke and fire
And fireworks to blaze at night
The gales howling over the shire
And lost at sea, the sailor's plight

The golden days, November brings
At evensong, the choir sings