Bright shiny leaves hung on the branches
My jacket, limp and damp, hung on my shoulders
The earth turning around for the new season
Trees and hedges were, just now, in a rich sun
Egrets and eagles called out and soared above
Watching us walk the duckboards across the lake
Through the mud onto the path close by
The leaves, shaking in the wind like medallions
Multi-coloured, rioting, succulent
Reds and browns and oranges above, beside us
Not so long ago
A late, late, blackberry, bitter on the tongue
Apples still on branches, weary for a fall
And grapes, cultivated for years by Italians
On the banks of our very English river Vere
Dark, tight bunches, still good to eat
Mocking us on the vine
Then taken on an outstretched arm
Long shadows crept across the water
Sun now half hidden by the trees
Tracking our feet in pools of light
Not so long ago
Then we sat and talked in the Secret Meadow
Let’s pretend the season is not fading
It’s still ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’
Falling asleep in the warm moonlight to a flickering candle
The blustering wind, a soft cold rain
And twilight gathered into early darkness
Let us say our prayers by this candle
Lighting gaps between the tree-trunks
Not so long ago
Now we huddled close together, hand in hand
Keeping warm, inching slowly along our path
By the lake before the night begins
.