There’s a nip in the air this morning,
And is that a thicker dew upon the grass?
Everything today feels so much damper,
Has the Summer already come to pass?
It’s time to put away the Barbecue,
And to stack away those garden chairs,
To throw away discarded flip-flops,
Specially those that don’t add up to pairs.
The sun is lower in the skies I see,
Migrating birds are parting on their ways,
And so the nights are drawing slowly in,
And we notice those much-shorter days.
The Olympic Park is closing down,
Testament to a job well done,
And as we say farewell to all the athletes,
We wave good-bye to summer sun.
The Last Night Of The Proms has been and gone,
And, in a twist that’s surely cruel,
It’s back to Strictly and The X-Factor,
And the BBC’s Autumn schedule.
The plants and flowers have all gone over,
And of the veggie glut I’m starting to tire.
There’s a drifting smell of rotting vegetation,
As I pile the waste upon the bonfire.
The early leaves blow around the garden,
And lower temperatures we’re meeting.
It’s time to think about storing logs and oil,
And turning on the central heating.
It’s the seasonal cycle of low pressure,
And now a chilly wind begins to blow,
As we button up our thicker jackets,
And hope that it doesn’t start to snow.
It’ll soon be time to put the clocks back,
And that’s the clearest end of summer,
Hallowe’en, Bonfire Night and “the C-word”,
It’s all over now – what a bummer!
Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012
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