To Autumn,

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness


   barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,

   barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,

   and touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue

   and touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue

   bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,

   bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,

   swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

   swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

autumn leaves
   fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run

   fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run

   later flowers for the bees,

   later flowers for the bees,

   Until they think warm days will never cease,

   Until they think warm days will never cease,

waves
   thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind,

   thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind,

   And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

   And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

Nest

~ some of my favourite lines from Keats' poem "To Autumn," which I love

Julia Florence