Conkers

The wind blows hard

And the conkers fall

With a plop plop plop

They drop drop drop

At my feet onto

A crunchy bed of

Yellow, orange, red.

 

Conkers conkers conkers,

Shiny brown and smooth.

 

I hunt around,

Find them on the ground,

Pick some up and

Put them in my pocket.

A boy has a

Blue jumper-full.

He hands me some:

One, two, three.

 

I take them home;

Count them out

On the carpet:

Sixty-one in all.

 

Conkers conkers conkers,

Shiny brown and smooth.