This week’s reader’s poem is by Jan Howlett and is called November.
November is a funny month
All mists and foggy days
All slippery leaves and muddy paths
And steamy breath and haze.
The cheerful joy of spring long gone
The summer – memories
The kindest part of autumn past
And only bare brown trees!
The Christmas spirit not quite here
– December’s promised prize –
And purses not quite full enough
For early Christmas buys.
An yet there’s something rather nice
About November weather
When evenings cold are spent around
The fireside all together.
No gardening now – just tidying
With bonfires, smoke and fun
And long crisp walks, and tea, and talks
And crumpets – who needs sun?
And then, of course, that special day
No other month can share
When squeals of joy and shouts of glee
Come echoing through the air.
When bangers bang and Catherines wheel
And sparklers spark all around
And rockets that went skyward
Come hurtling to the ground.
And when the Guy is pushed in carts
And children cry ‘Remember’
It makes us all feel rather pleased
At last we’ve reached November.
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