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There once was a month called September.
Not really too hard to remember.
Leaves fell and wind blew,
And this much is true,
Summer's dying just like an ember.
Weather's hot, be a while 'fore it's cold.
Seasons, like me, getting old.
But just on a whim,
Gonna go for a swim!
When the beach isn't crowded, I'm bold.
I look for the last rose of summer.
And that is really a bummer!
See, it's just like I feared
First one never appeared!
My Green Thumb is just getting dumber!
Here is something I want you to know.
Not looking forward to snow.
I regard winter,
As a large painful splinter.
And off to Key West I'd rather go!
~
SWAMPETTA
~
© Photograph by Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)
September
2004
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