The trees they search with a baleful eye
A cloudless sky an open sky
A pristine sky – so blue
The days
they are such glorious days
Days for fun for everyone
With a softer than a summer sun
That burns and dries the lakes.

Can this be winter?
Must be so – are not the nights so chilled and cold
It’™s after autumn too

The trees they search with’  doleful eye
For a sign – a cloud – to appear on high
Whe’™re those wet – those billowy friends
Heavy with life’™s life-giving drops
Filling udders for the table tops?’ ‘ ‘ 

The trees they search and seek in vain
for that life-giving fluid – a sign of rain
And because they have no tears to shed
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  They shed their leaves – like rain, instead