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The heat of Summer is gripped by sweaty hands of September & October: squeezing, wringing out its energy like water held in a sponge. Leaves, in a thick canopy are still green overhead. The sun penetrates them with laser- like beams that dazzle the eyes. Berries are ripening on thorny brambles. Wild lilies bloom in unearthly orange hue. The low hum of insects: a faint rustle of squirrels or rabbits stirs silence. Listen - a melodic chorus of birds with little more to do this Autumn day - but sing and wing about this earth – this England. Tobias.
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Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 6:03 AM UTC
A Keatsian Idyll
The heat of Summer is gripped by sweaty hands of September & October: squeezing, wringing out its energy like water held in a sponge. Leaves, in a thick canopy are still green overhead. The sun penetrates them with laser- like beams that dazzle the eyes. Berries are ripening on thorny brambles. Wild lilies bloom in unearthly orange hue. The low hum of insects: a faint rustle of squirrels or rabbits stirs silence. Listen - a melodic chorus of birds with little more to do this Autumn day - but sing and wing about this earth – this England. Tobias.
anthony-brady
Written by
79/M/English
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 6:03 AM UTC
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