Heavy stands the mist,
Sweet, the new fall apple.
Damp with frosted dew,
I search alone for you.
Come the darkening nights,
The clack of conkers in desperate fights.
Throw the stick and catch the prickled ball,
Memories of the Fall.
Fill the sack and haul the pram.
“Penny for our Guy?”
“Oh! Thank you ma’am.”
To the shop let us haul,
For fireworks, candies and all.
Bonfire smoke,
Hard toffee bite.
Darkness comes
Soon with Novembers night.
Air grows damp as misty forms rain.
Gunpowder smoke,
Swirls around the fiery bloke.
Nights now quiet,
Lost in time.
Gone forever.
At Apple picking time.