Sun-Days

Send us Fan MailSun-days Sundaysand church bellschime,a mid morning call to awake, earth tilled and prepared, in  dreams of November, for springtime, sleeping in silence, born to create.And above the fields, blue sky and woodsmoke, crows circle and call, their trees released of leaves, trembling and tumbling, memories of summer, flickering in colour, slowly fall.For beside the river, meandering in curves, with lazy ships, clouds and sails of white, upon skies of late summer blue, autumn, reaches deep for lengthening shadows, and pulls winter into darkness [email protected]