There is music without ere a bird
There is bloom without ere a flower
For eolean winds we oft have heard
& the grass blooms fresher every hour
The very rushes seem as flowers
That nod above the marshy grass
Through which the winds in summer hours
Whistle & winnow as they pass
The lark may leave the new ploughed land
& settle in another place
Yet poets see & understand
Sweet music in its russet face
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#poetry #environment
Image by my friend #CarryAkroyd
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