Citizen reader Reg Wenn of Chatteris, known for his poetry and readings, has sent in this view of autumn.
Autumn has its fair share of riches, we see farmers bringing the harvest home,
in an effort to beat the weather, which soon will chill to the bone.
Most of the harvesting is safely gathered in, potatoes next to be done.
leaving only the sugar beet, for the pheasants to hide from the gun.
The evening air has a crisper feel, the sign of each shortening day,
but at this time there is fruit to pick, sort over and pack away.
‘tis a wonderful time of year, when the fruit harvest is so tasty,
blackberries and apple; encased in home made flaky pastry.
Autumn’s a good time for poets, inspired by the fast changing scenes,
leaves turn to gold, crimson and bronze, answering a lyricist’s dreams.
Pumpkins are ripe and ready, for the frolics of November’s Halloween,
bonfires prepared for Guy Fawkes, soon fireworks to be heard and seen.
Jack Frost has struck with a vengeance, remaining summer plants now dead,
tells us to revamp the garden, by putting hardy plants into the flower bed.
In woods and spinney there are nuts aplenty, just lying there on the floor,
where the squirrels are having a busy old time; collecting them to store.
The sugar beet harvest is under way, a sight which fills me with fear,
for not only do we get mud on the roads, it’s the shot guns we can hear,
the farmers having their annual shoot, many pheasants to die on the wing,
but sadly in church they’re forgotten; as they render ‘All is safely gathered in’.
We’ve had the frost, we’ve had the smoke, we’ve had the cordite in the air,
we’ve had the months of Autumn, for the pheasants it’s not been fair,
nature has some strange old ways, as does history and Halloween witches,
but all in all a colourful season, which does have its fair share of riches.
Wenn the Penn