I like the rain,
when it falls
                           somewhere           else,
I like the cold
morning air,
                               from under my quilt or when
                            dressed in my jacket with my toque on,
I like the leaves,
who paints them each night,
                                               a different colour to my delight,
There is a mystery,
I know not the answer
to,
                                     maybe you do,
                                      it is about mosquitoes...

they fly sort of right now,
trying to break and enter some how,
                                                          in­to my house after me,
                                                            t­hey are thirsting see...

even as the sun is about to set,
it isn't really warm, cool is a better bet,


The mosquitoes don't know it is fall
they have blood sense and no common sense is all,

Do they know when it is fall?
do they have any common sense at all?
When will I see then end to these blood thirsty hordes?


©DWE102013