Frost on the rooftops,
Dew on the grass,
Leaves drifting down
Wherever we pass;
Wet windy weather,
Skies often grey;
Leaves piling up
Though raked every day.
Ice on the puddles,
Trees almost bare;
Mornings are chilly,
Breath on the air.
Squirrels are still busy,
Where nuts can be found,
Hiding their treasures
In hollows around.
Darkness comes early,
It's cozy indoors
With apples and popcorn
And books to explore.
The harvest is in
And all stored away;
Watch for the snowflakes
To come anyday.
by Harriet C. Whipple
Comments? Send e-mail to shihtzumom@snip.net
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