Here's a poem I made last year: The wind has got them warmed up! To the party below They have warm hearts! They make a start— They begin to rave! After the evening rush They have finished their coffee-stand songs, And their last sloe gin toddy: All is ready, my sheep, for the hunting! The coming of the harvest May come as ready as possible, If the packing-cases be left open! The coming of autumn As sure as autumn is sure In carrying its shadow across the woodlands. We have brought it too far, And set it too soon in train! The coming of spring Will bring with it its own chill And set us all a-breath. We have crowded them with friends, And squeezed them so that now and then The flowers squeak and twitch, To the untrained ear it sounds like music. And say, come, let us chill among the fields Till the evening rush Muster up a little courage: Let us turn to the steeple and