I love the crunch beneath my boots,
Crisp mornings and coloured trees.
Fingerless gloves and owl hoots,
Long scarves down to my knees.
Conkers burst their spiked armour,
Spill their seeds for conker wars.
Scarlet and golden paint a scene,
To cover paths and forest floors.
Without Autumn there’d be no respite
a harvest moon would not appear.
No Halloween or cosy suppers
To bring us all our Autumn cheer.
© 2017, Ellen Best. All rights reserved.
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