Jackdaws clamour, and crows in the trees
On the skyline chatter, clattering their black beaks
The sky is dip-dyed pale blue and white
Leaching from the canvas
As the afternoon steals away.
By the bench upon which I sit, a
Tree grows straight as an arrow
Towards the sky.
Clad in autumn plumage,
Its leaves burn yellow
In lambent seasonal flame.
One leaf twirls to the ground,
Its flight a leisurely spiral
Towards the gravel path below.
Inspired by the beautiful National Trust gardens at Stourhead.