September has come, it is hers
Whose vitality leaps in the autumn,
Whose nature prefers
Trees without leaves and a fire in the fire-place;
So I give her this month and the next
Though the whole of my year should be hers
who has rendered already
So many of its days intolerable or perplexed
But so many more so happy;
Who has left a scent on my life and left my walls
Dancing over and over with her shadow,
Whose hair is twined in all my waterfalls
And all of London littered with remembered
SH: Do you still visit here and look at my pictures? Look how well John's Marguerites have done this year...
I miss you very much.
... will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
We set the timer for this as we were out yesterday evening. Breakfast
time proved to be very scary and we were all as jumpy as Hell! Hope
these pics aren't too dark.......