No more flowers with heads held high,
The days get cooler day by day,
Summer seems so far away.
The scents and aromas of summers past,
The heady times just could'nt last,
Now we ponder what to plant next year,
Sitting at home with tea or beer.
Our gardens are so gaunt and bare,
Winter veg is now our only fare,
We've planted up our spring blooms,
All tucked up as winter looms.
This morning I woke to a beautiful sight,
My what had happened through the night?,
It looked just like a postcard scene,
but it was'nt snow, Jack Frost had been.