The Last of October

Halloween tho' it is, the last day of October never fails to bring to mind a poem that I learned in kindergarten.  Sitting cross-legged in a circle around our teacher, Miss Jenkins, our class would recite in unison:

FALL

The last of October

We lock the garden gate.

The flowers alive all withered

That used to stand straight.

The last of October

We put the swings away

And the porch looks deserted 

Where we like to play.

The last of October,

The birds have all flown.

The screens are in the attic,

The sand pile's all gone;

Everything is put away

Before it starts to snow---

I wonder if the ladybugs

Have any place to go.

Aileen Fisher

Are your bulbs planted, your mulch spread, and is your garden prepared for winter?