The moon does shine and bask upon the hill. Light falls into the lake and takes a spill. The raindrops drip and drip until they drop. It’s like a raindrop song—the rain does trill. The leaves turn brown, and soon they all will fall. A wind does blow and throws them like a ball. The air is chilled, and people start to shake. It’s now that time of year, the season calls. The children underneath their covers hide, The thunder roars and light’ning flashes wide, But elsewhere lovers cuddle up to sleep A cozy winter time they’ll have inside.