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Autumn

Something I wrote when I was 12.... seems like an eternity ago

When the autumn wind starts to blow,
The trees in the forest put on a colourful show,
Yellows, browns, gold and reds,
And the animals curl up snug in their beds.

When dry leaves fall to the ground,
With a dry rustling sound,
I like to make a little leaf bed,
On which to rest my weary head.

While the little bird flies,
To warmer skies,
Mother Earth plants her tiny seeds,
And tries to take care of all our needs.

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