October Blues

Blues catch like cold (but untold and forlorn).
And you sniffle a little, then freeze into stone
On your park bench where (flaming and swirling around)
The leaves that don’t touch you will rain on to ground;
Till the children and housewives and candyfloss men
With their lazy cries, crazy lies save you again.

A Song for September

Sit and watch, sit and watch
Till it comes for you: a tiny tune
With a tilted hat and sad moustache
And crimson heart hastily sewn
Upon the sleeve. Do receive
Its clumsy fingers in your own;
Lend it a small rhyme to weave
Dancing rain in autumn-blown
Branches, pavements, cloudy streets;
Rise and take it by the hand,
Twirl it round to the beat
And play it with a marching band.