Ode to October (Down Under)

                                   

Flowers not yet old
already faded and told;
leaves begin again, true,
but not because of you.

September brings in spring,
November foretells summer,
December through to August
have their purposes Down Under.

But you, you merely hover,
no cause to run for cover;
your wishy-washy colours
with nothing to say to lovers.




You rain and then you stop
you're cold and then you're not;
you blow a wind a while
but haven't the stomach to smile.

It's not your fault October,
I should not pick on you,
without your thirty-one days
I'd be at least fifty-two.