Conker

 

 

It’s raining acorns all around,

Tock-docking through the glade,

Sunburst glints, waving leaves,

Dancing with the wind.

 

Lull; lace winged silhouettes rise,

Flitting in slanting sunbeams,

Silver gossamer floats shimmering,

The fusty sweet scent of autumn.

 

Lying in a bed of russet and gold,

Beneath your spikey carapace

A soft whiteness enfolds you.

A crack; wakened by the light,

 

Opening a dark eye

To the cool, bright morning

Your brown marbled beauty

Brightens my October day.