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Autumn

By Paula Hanlon
Autumn

Crisp is the morning sign,

Mid the extremes we find.

That autumn is upon us,

Luke warm mid-day with little fuss.

Gold and red the hues we see,

For all to see a tree to be.

Some shed bare a seasonal cue,

That winters approaching in a few.

My favourite days we are within,

love my bed and warm sleep-ins.

With cat affection her comfort is,

Don’t move mum…tis tis tis.

Paula Hanlon 20/05/2023

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