Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Mid-September Sun
Dry and ripening:
sea flat and shining
like burning glass.
Gulls floating
like ducks on a giant's pond.
Small Coppers, Blues and Hairstreaks
playing
like blown leaves
in parched grass.
Victoria plums,
blackberries.
This is the turning
of the year
when all that is thought of as ‘there'
is found to be ‘here',
when harvests are collected,
lifetimes are inspected,
(next time's cosmic seeds selected)
and the traveller sees fear
in his handful of dust.
(In his handful of dust) .
poem
by
Brian Taylor
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black