Michael Rosen Ambles in the Autumn Woods | YTP

On London Road of an Autumn Day, I saw her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I would one day rue
I saw the danger and I passed along the enchanted way
And I said, "let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day"

On St. Pancra Station in November we tripped lightly along the way
Of the deep ravine where can be seen, the worth of Harrybo's pledge
The Queen of Hearts still making tarts, and I not making hay
Oh I loved too much, and by such by such, is happiness thrown away

I gave her gifts of the mind, I gave her the secret sign
That's known to the artists who have known the true gods of chocolate sauce
And word and tint without stint for I gave her poems to say
With her own name there and her own dark hair like clouds over fields of May

On a quiet street where old ghosts meet, I see her walking now
Away from me so hurriedly, my reason must allow
That I had loved not as I should, a creature made of clay
When the angel woos the clay he'd lose his plums at the dawning of the day

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