The seventh month

That’s actually the ninth

Those Romans still rule

But we can’t change it now

Why suddenly the embers

People start up the fires

And the burning I can smell

Quick close that bloody window

A signal to slow death of leaves

Look up and celebrate their beauty

Oops there drops another one

Somebody sweep that mess up!

August, the last noisy neighbour

September is the first peace in autumn

For winter is the drama-queen

So roll on next September