"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness"
Remembered from my days of Keats' classroom poetry.
Dare I comment in the way the masters spoke
Of how this season shows its face
And brings us to a resting place.
The fruits have used the Summer sun
To grow plump and sweet on tree and vine
Now it is time to harvest
And enjoy their fresh full flavours.
Midday can still bring strength of sun
But morn and eve are Winter's chill reminder
It is a glorious season.
The trees tired from their Summer garb
Dry out their leaves and paint them in fireglow.
Nuts swell in their pods
And seeds disperse in the wild flower fields.
Nature has come full cycle - like a pregnant woman.
Now she must seal the seeds that will bring new life in Spring