overnight rain
the unripe plums are falling fast
tiny apples strewn across the grass
the test’s on a knife edge says breakfast radio
the sun’s coming out oh i say what oh
the tables are drying in steam’s dream
the greenhouse is open so it would seem
like all in the garden is growing just for me
wood pigeons coo drying in the silver tree
foxy retuning home to his warming bed
coffee for me what else can be said
perhaps a scone and jam with loads of cream
after a midsummer’s night a perfect dream
reign on sunny morning after rain in the night
for god’s in his heaven everything’s alright
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