The smell of burnt fireworks wafts on the breeze,
As autumn’s cold hand starts to tighten.
A few hardy leaf-lets cling tight to the trees,
At five, the street lamps start to brighten.
But what’s this I see? Is the madness complete?
(The answer is surely “Yea, verily.”)
On November 1st in a house ‘cross the street,
A Christmas tree’s lights twinkle merrily.
As autumn’s cold hand starts to tighten.
A few hardy leaf-lets cling tight to the trees,
At five, the street lamps start to brighten.
But what’s this I see? Is the madness complete?
(The answer is surely “Yea, verily.”)
On November 1st in a house ‘cross the street,
A Christmas tree’s lights twinkle merrily.
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