MacDonald, Angus
Autumn his its bonnie colours
Maybe nae sae bonnie's Spring,
Broons an gold an roosty tints
On ilka livin thing.
Trees start tae shed their leaves,
An they pile up on the grun
Far bairns aa rin through them
An syne hae lots o fun.
Frost starts tae nip yer lugs
Afore the sun begins tae rise
An in low lyin howes,
There the mornin mist still lies.
Loons lookin fir some conkers
Tae pit ontae a string
Migratin birdies fill the sky
Their journey they begin
Squirrels storin widlan nuts
Gang loupin thro the trees
Hedgehogs curl up aneth the hedge
Tae tak their Winter ease
Nowt staun wi steamin braith
Waitin tae be pit in a byre
An cottar fowk stack peats an logs
Tae feed their Winter fire.
Autumn is a busy time fir baith man an beast
As Winter comes ,an the growin season's ceased.