POEM - The months
Apricots, and gillyflowers.
August brings the sheaves of corn;
Then the harvest home is borne.
Warm September brings the fruit;
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Brown October brings the pheasant,
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.
Dull November brings the blast--
Hark! the leaves are whirling fast.
Cold December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.
The Alphabet Song
ABCDE
Stand up and look at me!
FGHIJ
I play football every day!
KLMNO
I like cake, oh, oh, oh!
PQRST
Hey people. Listen to me
UVWXYZ
The alphabet is in my head!
annaabi.ee 
