October, end of summer, golden days
Mums, astors, bales of hay
Leaves of orange, red and yellow
Apples are tart, or sweet and mellow
Mornings are chilly, awaiting the sun
Leaves leapfrog each other, having fun
The grass has quit growing, it's turning brown
There's no more mowing till Spring comes 'round
Frosty nights, cloudless and still
Huge golden moon climbs over the hill
Letting us know he is Autumn's master
While winter is hurrying faster and faster
November comes, bringing the snow
Sadly we watch October go
Twelve more months we have to wait
'Till again we can swing on October's gate