It’s a chilly, windy leaves off trees day.
Uninviting, but still exciting.
Transforming the last of the summer sunshine.
To a November bonfire of a year gone by.
Is there a political parallel or even parody?
Well the shine has worn off the early victory euphoria.
No more fig leaves covering up the unplanned promises.
No houses built; no boats stopped; no waiting lists dropped.
Just the autumn of a few careers, before a bleak midwinter.
GrumbleSmiles 
I see the leaves enjoy their colour as they fall to the floor on ‘deaf ears’, I can see the future in my rose coloured specticles,, but I cannot hear anything at the moment except moan or is it a groan? OR just a smell like a ‘FART’ from westminister, Just a bad puff of smelly wind, with no direction east west north or south, just a cyclone of ideas, with any answer one may wish for? but not a happppy ending??? Maybe,