What does Autumn mean to you ?
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I love the colour of the autumn leaves
Blown to the ground in the gentle breeze
The air now feels so cool and fresh
The third season I love the best,
I love walking and watching the sky change
Until it changes bright blue
Then when dusk comes around
I find myself walking through the leaves so brown,
I continue walking along the side of the burbling brook
I feel so glad to be alive
Taking in such wonderous sites,
suddenly the sky turns red
Was it something I said?
By Abbe Cutforth
September is a month
When nature is slowing down
It is the onset of autumn
When the leaves are turning brown
Birds start their migration
In flocks of every kind
A majestic synchronization
A sight that will blow you mind
The hedgerows in all their glory
With spectacles of colour so bright
All the days getting shorter
As the days give into night
The squirrels scurrying around
Rummaging through the leaves
Collecting building material
For their nests up in the trees
The nights become colder
The frost will appear on the ground
Nature starts to go to sleep
Leaves fall silently without a sound
The harvest all been gathered in
The farmers ploughing their field
Sowing all their winter seed
For next years harvest yield
Autumn prepares for the winter
That will freeze all within
Keeping nature cosy and warm
Until the onset of spring
* UPDATED JUNE 2021 *
You can’t get published without an agent, and you can’t get an agent without being published – or so the adage goes. Thankfully, there are still a few children’s book publishers who are happy to wade through the ‘slush pile’, that teetering tower of manuscripts we imagine fill up a corner of the office, each one representing an agent-less writer who is hoping against hope that they might be plucked from obscurity. So in the spirit of writerly comradeship here is my current list of writer-friendly children’s fiction publishers in the UK who still accept unsolicited manuscripts. Check their website guidelines and submit away, but please do correct me if I’ve made any errors or incorrect assumptions. NB Where there is a link, I have endeavoured to take you, the linkee, to the submissions guidelines page of the publisher’s website; where that is not possible…
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On donkey’s back in heat of sun
With childlike trust he journeys on
Our waves, our cheers, bring knowing smile;
The cut’s gates less than a mile.
We urged him on with waving palms.
He knew the end, and yet was calm.
He rode along, ‘ Neath father’s gaze,
His view was clear, no dusty haze.
He knew full well the tide would turn
His kingly stance, the crowd would spurn.
But he could see a prize to win,
Man’s cancelled debt. An end to sin.
Remember now, at Easter-tide,
To look again at donkey rides.
To see beyond the palms and fun,
To truth, not fantasy, to god’s own son.
Remember well that ride to death ,
God died for you, whom he gave breath.
So kneel and pray, and ask,
And he will show the way that’s truly free.
Dave R West