Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

Poets' Corner

Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

Poets' Corner

Article excerpt

Autumn

The fruit trees, laden with apple and pear,

Giving a feast, to folk living there;

The farmers' fields, all rich with corn,

Waiting to be harvested, any fine morn;

Those misty mornings, again appear,

Just like they always do,

This time each year;

Rows and rows of vegetables to eat,

For this is the season, when this food is great;

Leaves from the trees, making a carpet of gold,

And still birds are whistling

their songs of old;

Yes! autumn is here and

everything grown,

Showing our handiwork

with what we have sown.

CELIA COE, West Denton, Newcastle

The colours of autumn a rare sight to see,

Bright shiny leaves lighting up every tree;

Yellow's and amber's and red's all unite,

So many colours reflecting the light;

The trees so tall standing all in a row,

Each one with it's own individual glow;

So very uplifting to just stand and stare,

At mother nature's pure beauty year after year!

S DRISCOLL, Hodgkin Park Crescent, Benwell.

AAHLL them tales iv global warmin,

Soonded really quite alarmin;

But wah still in the autumn season,

`N me fingers is bloomin freezin;

Aah've gor aahll me winter clo'es on,

Lang sleeves te wipe me nose on;

Though aahm wearin me warmest cap,

Me neb's drippin like a tap;

Me lugs feel like two icicles,

There's chilblains on me test cycles;

Aah wish the summer sun wud shine again.

DON HENDERSON, Holmside Avenue, Gateshead.

THE BUS

Standing in the bus queue the other day, to me it was so long,

With all those people standing there, my timing was just wrong;

Buses come, buses go, the queue it did get smaller,

Each time I tried to stretch my neck,

the man in front got taller Oh, dear, I glance upon my watch, time passes oh so slowly,

If my bus doesn't come in soon I'll just

use shank's pony; Most people today have nothing to say, most faces are so gloomy, A friendly chap might say, how do?

He will cause he's a Toony; with a happy face, a friendly smile,

to keep on chatting for awhile;

Bygone days have now been and gone, Yet memories of them linger on, Sometime a natter or a chat, Can keep one up to day with that! …

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