PACKING UP THE PARK
All the picnic tables are stacked up side on side,
The swings are taken down, piled up under the slide,
No life guards sit on their seats overlooking the lake,
The beach is silent save for the noise that nature does make.

Fall season is now with us, all the leaves are falling fast,
The birds are migrating south, you can see them fly past
High in the sky, bidding us a fond farewell until spring,
Another silence in the park for those birds do not sing.

It is sad to see the park all tucked up ready for sleep,
Especially when an Indian summer comes to peep,
But look there is one picnic table waiting just for us,
Here we come at last a chance for a big picnic fuss.

Cold cuts, left over meatloaf, chips and lots of salad,
Juice to drink, as you chomp away you feel so glad
That there are days like these when the park comes alive
With the laughter of children on which we all thrive.

All the food eaten and everything cleared away,
Now for a walk before the end of this lovely day,
Watch the ducks dive and swim as we slowly walk
By the lakes edge in peace, there’s no need for talk.

Maybe this will be the last picnic before winter sets in
And the last table put away ‘till another summer does begin.
But I’ll stole around the park while there is a path to follow,
But when winter comes maybe some skis I can borrow.

So although the park has been all packed away
It will still be used I am sure for many a day,
With walks in the sun as you watch the lake freeze,
Then ski on the deep snow in the cold winter breeze.

M Ann Margetson © October 1, 2001