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The sun has virtually vanished, Occasionally waving its light from behind the clouds, The air is warm and the breeze is still, The leaves of September crunch and the twigs crack, And as i walk the conkers roll in my path, The chirping of a distant bird warming his nest, Before the rain starts to disturb his rest, Children grab the final strands of play, And Autumn takes hold.
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Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 5:18 AM UTC
September
The sun has virtually vanished, Occasionally waving its light from behind the clouds, The air is warm and the breeze is still, The leaves of September crunch and the twigs crack, And as i walk the conkers roll in my path, The chirping of a distant bird warming his nest, Before the rain starts to disturb his rest, Children grab the final strands of play, And Autumn takes hold.
written in 2007
simon-clark
Written by
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 5:18 AM UTC
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