November is no longer sober and sombre,
here in England with its wintry morn,
Straight sun beams, in egalitarian mood,
Pop up on the fields, the slanting grass,
Weans away my fear of shiver and cold
brambly roses, barn and brooks,
rabbits run races, cicadas bring peace,
the shed leaves , a loose garment for the
much plodded fields, and my paced steps,
November is no longer sober and sombre,
Merry bells of Christmas already in tunes,
November is no longer sober and sombre.
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