Sweet Chestnuts Poem by ANDREW BLAKEMORE

Sweet chestnuts lie upon the ground
They've fallen from the tree,
As summer ends and autumn nears
There's nothing left for me,
Although the sky is blue and clear
The morning air feels cold,
As late September drifts away
Soon leaves will turn to gold.

The hedgerows in the country lane
With berries now so few,
They've fallen from their thorny vines
And lost in autumn's hue,
The fields are ploughed and look so bare
Where once were fields of corn,
And now it's all been gathered in
So sad and so forlorn.

And empty husks of acorns dwell
Beneath the oaks that stand,
Within the hawthorn thick and dense
And scattered on the land,
Sweet chestnuts lie upon the ground
They've fallen from the tree,
As summer ends and autumn nears
There's nothing left for me.