That must mean it’s autumn. It certainly feels like it, now. So here’s a little poem for when the days are drawing in and it’s becoming colder and darker outside.
Keep watch at the window in the Westering light,
On the distant hill in the approaching night,
Under darkling clouds, over dew-touched heath,
Where the flowers of summer are now touched by death,
I’ll be coming home in the fading light.
Keep watch at the window in the fading light,
You’ll see me walking when the moon is bright,
My shadow before me coming down the hill,
My breath opaque in the air now chill,
I’ll be coming home in the last of the light.
Keep watch at the window in the last of the light,
When I’m weary you’ll see me come into sight,
Drawn by the firelight and the thought of wine,
By the thought of you; so glad you’re mine!
I’m home now, let’s shut out the night.