Pumpkin Spice Latte — Threads and Tuneage
‘Twas Autumn and the trees ablaze, With colours rust and brown, The fox asleep in bracken snug, Lived just outside the town. No baying hounds, no braying men On horseback sought him there Old Reynard free from such as these Slept soundly without care. A passing artist spied him and The russet blaze espied “A