Yes I mean it, hang on there, the winter has just begun.
I am not ready to dust of the bikini yet, sorry joke.
Far to scary, for you to contemplate.
I found "one" solitary daffodil, yep sticking itself right out there.
Now please, I want more cold, I want more fog, I want more of .
Well, I want lots, like reading by the fire, with lamplight.
With endless cups of tea, and lovely grey days outside.
I want to walk in the fog, look at moss and fungi growing.
Not sweat and moan that, it is just to darn hot.
I have a little bird, who is looking for a mate.
I think he wants a Mrs. or maybe just a fling.
All day he checks out a mirror, and primpts and preens with glee.
He wiggles those little tail feathers, winks and nods his head.
I tell him he has know hope in the love stakes,
If he keeps this nonsense up.
He is behaving like one of those Greek Gods,
Just looking at himself, now if I see him in a toga,
A olive branch behind his ear, I will shrug my shoulders
Just walk away, there is no hope for this little birdie here.
Don't you just love it, when Mother Nature says.
Get your gear off, show us your branches
Bare yourself, drop your leaves.
My trees do it so well, the brazen hussies.
A bit of a breeze and a twist and a twirl.
Not a leaf, left to cover their modesty.
Yes, they look fantastic, their branches all bare.
Beautiful, against a grey sky.
They know they look the goods, just to be admired.
Just love autumn, all its colour, followed by all its nakedness.
