Conkers fall from trees
in the mist of the forest
thick coat in people hand .
Golden leaves fall from trees
crispy leaves crack like a firework
bright moon light shines down .
Children in costumes
knock on doors asking for treats
toffee apples ready to eat .
Bonfire fills the night
little children love the night
pumpkins give you a fright .
Trees with a few leafs
orange and brown instead of green
shiny conkers falls of trees.
Then people play conkers .
A rusty , old and battered bike has been abandoned and hasn’t been used a century .
Squeaky wills are surrounded emerald green moss .
A rotting frame that is brown but ones blue .
The white handle is the only thing that hasn’t been eaten by the rust .
The old seat is plastic and no padding and rusty bolts attaching it to the frame .
A white old wooden fence is holding the bike up .
Chunky pedals haven’t been touched .
A person took the bike to a farm and the bike was left there .
All the memories were lost on a farm.
The end .
your a lion waiting for your lunch
your are a the happy valley in summer your are a little green , slimy enjoyably along the side of a pond
you are a small star dancing in the moon light
you are a choclate bar waiting to be eaten
you are a person in perfect motion
you are the opposite of Donald Trump
you as light as the sun
you are a rainbow in the sky
you are rain waiting to crie
your are a the love of December and not the 5th of November
you are the the moon
you are the blossom of spring
you are the end
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