by Dixie Willson
I like the fall,
The mist and all.
I like the night owl's
Lonely call --
And wailing sound
Of wind around.
I like the gray
November day
And bare dead boughs
That coldly sway
Against my pane.
I like the rain.
I like to sit
And laugh at it --
And tend
My cozy fire a bit.
I like the fall --
The mist and all.
I like the fall,
The mist and all.
I like the night owl's
Lonely call --
And wailing sound
Of wind around.
I like the gray
November day
And bare dead boughs
That coldly sway
Against my pane.
I like the rain.
I like to sit
And laugh at it --
And tend
My cozy fire a bit.
I like the fall --
The mist and all.
