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The sun announces its imminent welcome arrival
With colours that spill over the moors into the skyline.
The lustrous morning star bids its adieu and fades.
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One last hoot from an owl returning to its home,
To be replaced by the boisterous quacking of ducks
Bickering noisily after their slumbers on the lake.
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Up they come flying - one, two, three and four -
On their flight-path over the rooftops of our town
To join their many friends mingling at the river bank.
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The sun’s warming rays strike the cool autumn lake
Causing a veil of mist to gently rise from its depths.
Vibrant autumn colours replace the blackness of night.
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Look, like pearls of silver, the moisture clings to hedges,
And the grass is attired in a mantel of glistening hoarfrost,
Whilst the hedge-top wears a covering of golden leaves.
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Already my lawn is carpeted with hungry moorhens
And the ducks – usually the first ones to tap on my window.
The queue for the cafe is formed whilst I fetch their bread.
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