In a nightgown of mist the garden sleeps
While Dawn yawns quietly and cold birds creep
Revealed now are the webs and well-spun plans
Of spiders profiting where they can
Silken traps woven out of view
Now hang heavy with the dew
A world held ransom by their threads
As we lay sleeping in our beds
The alarm clock rings, a blackbird's call
And soon the mist will fret and fall
Day will chase these thoughts away
But spiders sit and spin and prey
With a dazzling smile, Autumn sunshine in the soft air
Squirrels, tails punctuating the roofline, gather food
Where the eaves and gutters are waiting for leaves
And, up in the Museum tree, two jacks chat to a spotted cat
Waiting, hopefully, beneath. Eyes watching me
Along the lane, among the white nettle, ivy and old apple
trees
I spot a chiff-chaff checking along branches or maybe it’s a
willow warbler
Sage and yellow against the fresh, grassy snort of nearby
horses
At the stile, the hazel branches form a perfect picture
frame
For the Tor, wearing a wide brimmed blue-sky hat
And a green skirt sprigged with people and sheep
Returning past the meadows, a lone swan glides
Schooner skimming the green seas low along the river line
A feathered arrow from an angel’s bow
Blackberry, elderberry, crab apple, chestnut, conkers
The colour of Autumn spilling from the trees
All festoon the path home in celebration of a passing summer
Feel the year slow, the fierce summer sun soften
The promise of Spring setting into ripe Autumn fruit
The harvest home, the seed set, the hard work won
A smile, a chat, a wide brimmed hat
And an early Autumn morning
