Close bosom-friend of autumn fashion shows
Conspiring with avid retailers
To load and bless their weary coffers
Depleted by the sleepy August trade.
Who hath not spied the myriad creepy spiders
Hanging in sticky wait for heedless prey:
Flies and all unwary human passers
Raptly enwrapping them in legs and web?
Where is the carefree summer? Ay, now gone!
The sunburnt shoulders, sweat and skimpy trunks
Give way to nature’s bounty :
Powdery mildew, mould, potato blight.
Think not of balmy evenings, barbecues, bare legs,
But face the fast-approaching dreaded advent
Of long dark winter tights.