Sun at last shine’s through the glass, whilst pussy-tat sit’s heating fast
The Golden leave’s from Cherry tree’s, clinging tight yet now take flight
Whilst breeze become’s a wisping wind, further more a gale-storm bring’s
The fresh air of Autumn’s life, with The Morrighan, A Murder of Crow’s in strife
The local cat’s that rest and roam, the one’s allowed outside their home
The canine woof’s a barking sound, sometime’s securing, though deafening hound’s!
Afternoon shall bring in child, childer of all neighbouring kind
These I watch playing around, often with their scream’s and shout’s
To have all this, plus more to see, is such a gift, to entertain me.