DEAR editor,

It's very noisy out today, says Stan the whippet cross;

That's just the wind amongst the trees, old Curly Jenny says;

And all the leaves are falling down, say Stan the whippet cross;

The trees, they soon will look like sticks, old Curly Jenny says.

It's windy walks this morning, the clouds they look like rain,

But he takes us out regardless, in the woods and down the lane,

Around the hill and through the park and then we're home again,

And we;re back from windy walks this cold bright morning.

We haven't been beyond the hill, says Stan the whippet cross;

We'd have to face the wind and rain, old Curly Jenny says;

Why does he call your name so loud, says Stan the whippet cross;

So's I can lead the way back home, old Curly Jenny says.

The woods are full of falling leaves, they scatter and they fly,

The wind, it sends them spinning, brown and gold they flutter by,

But soon it's towels and blankets and a bed that's warm and dry,

And dreams of windy walks on cold bright mornings.

It sounds quite windy out of doors, says Stan the whippet cross;

You ought to go, he wants you to, old Jenny would have said;

I'll look for shelter all the way, says Stan the whippet cross;

YOu won't be out for very long, old Jenny would have said.

It was raining when I first woke up, so it's cold again today,

The grass is wet and much too long, the leaves have blown away,

He'll take my ball and throw it but I don';t think I'll play,

We'll walk quite slowly round the park this morning.

Today it would have been too cold, for Stan the whippet cross;

We ought to go out anyway, old Jenny would have said;

The clouds would always blow away for Stan the whippet cross;

I like the woods the best of all, old Jenny would have said.

Bit the woods are bare and empty, the leaves have passed away,

The tumbling clouds have darkened with the shortening of the day,

Now waiting by the open door are memories that stay,

Of all those windy walks on cold bright mornings.

A Robinson

Penarth