Walking by a place with trees,
Woodland, forrest, one of these.
She says she loves this time of year.
Leaves are falling here and there,

And there and there, and by the car.
Nearly everywhere they are.
A plane across the deep blue sky.
A long white trail, way up high.

Home again to paint a wall,
A light blue colour in their hall.
A little bird outside the door
Walks back and forth and back once more.

He looks lost. He says he's not.
He's walking back and forth a lot.
Ted and Joan have dinner then.
A cup of tea, a glass of gin.

Playing Scrabble for an hour
Joan makes words like 'style' and 'flour'.
Joe sits back and tries to think,
And pours them both another drink.

He accidentally spells the word 'path'.
He shakes his head and laughs at that.
Joan looks for a better word.
"Okay I'm lost," says the bird.