Seasoned

'twas the season of gold where all men grow old and trees lose their leaves in a day
woods do sound weary with damp at their feet, creaking and groaning till may
The wild wind doth blow with a hail to and fro while the sun sets away in a glow
Thunder and lightening attacking and frightening the branches fall off in a sway
Hedgehogs bed down into a slumber with a collection of grubs by their side
All kinds of animals tucked in for the winter, away in the forests they hide
Winter comes along to close another year, tis sad for all when it ends
though we melt away all the bad times with a drink in a glass and a friend