The wind-blown leaves pass
like shoals of golden fishes,
the trees stand bare and bleak
in the chilly breeze.
For hearty meals against the cold
there is a harvest of vegetables
steaming from the oven,
welcome in the frosty evenings.
It is a time of reading and reflection,
fond memories and aspiration;
it invites dreams and confidences,
and loves old songs and poems.

Reg Naulty.