The summer leaves are putrefying brown

As is overcooked by the once blazing sun.

Autumn is starting to encompass the town,

Another battle of the seasons has been won.

The humid night air is no longer there,

Pyjamas and nightgowns slowly reappear.

We sit snug in our homely castles where

We are isolated from much worry and fear.

Soon, the season of goodwill will arrive,

And help numb the coldness in our hearts,

Filling us with true happiness and drive.

(Spare a thought for those who are apart).

Seasons they come and seasons they go.

But all year round we continue to grow. By D P Crompton,

Pimlott Road, Hall i'th' Wood, Bolton.

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.