Knowing a rainbow had nowhere to hide
He sought solace walking in the woods.
The trees on his tramp through the woods
Busy with incessant rain fall.
Their boughs shaking off yellowed leaves.
The vapours, and the blended notes of
Birdsong enhanced this constitutional.
The various gifts the wood dispenses
Manna for the writer within.
He rested under the cover of a greenwood tree
Composed his thoughts.
Always in his mind the words of Alexander Pope
“All nature is but art”
Poetry from The Man Shed
10/11/19
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