A poem to stave off the "A" word! And quite a lot of photos from London
Ode to Late Summer
October’s clock strikes but a song!
I will not call you “Autumn”
for your season is not of change but continuation:
plentiful the scene - serenity of sky and
full green leaf without the inclination to fall.
What if spiders have snared the hedgerows
and reddened apples lisp with wasps?
While you your warming pardon shine,
that promise of growth reprieves
the closure of night's now-lengthened noose.
I was in London for work this week and took a picture of the Inner Temple gardens - can you believe it is October?
Nearby I found a plaque commemorating a lost palace of King Henry VIII:
and a glimpse of St Paul's cathedral seen through a lane sliced between two office blocks:
Heading further West along the River Thames, I came to the Embankment Gardens:
From there, I headed North, past a house with a history of sheltering famous people:
I was not acknowledged by the actor Henry Irving outside the National Portrait Gallery:
I wonder if Thespian Henry would have raised his eyebrows over this in Chinatown:
Walking down Piccadilly, I noticed a strange relief above a shop door (the man with the folded arms is, I believe, some London council official and nothing to do with the fashionable Tiger of Sweden):
Piccadilly means Fortnum and Mason and the ritual purchase of the Christmas pudding:
It is never too early: late summer it may be and not yet the "A" word but the Christmas Shop at Fortnum's is already peddling the festive season with piles of sparkly decorations and a minor Milky Way of winking lights:
I hope that you enjoyed coming along with me to London town. I will be there again next Saturday but this time not for work :=)
October’s clock strikes but a song!
I will not call you “Autumn”
for your season is not of change but continuation:
plentiful the scene - serenity of sky and
full green leaf without the inclination to fall.
What if spiders have snared the hedgerows
and reddened apples lisp with wasps?
While you your warming pardon shine,
that promise of growth reprieves
the closure of night's now-lengthened noose.
I was in London for work this week and took a picture of the Inner Temple gardens - can you believe it is October?
Nearby I found a plaque commemorating a lost palace of King Henry VIII:
and a glimpse of St Paul's cathedral seen through a lane sliced between two office blocks:
Heading further West along the River Thames, I came to the Embankment Gardens:
From there, I headed North, past a house with a history of sheltering famous people:
I was not acknowledged by the actor Henry Irving outside the National Portrait Gallery:
I wonder if Thespian Henry would have raised his eyebrows over this in Chinatown:
Walking down Piccadilly, I noticed a strange relief above a shop door (the man with the folded arms is, I believe, some London council official and nothing to do with the fashionable Tiger of Sweden):
Piccadilly means Fortnum and Mason and the ritual purchase of the Christmas pudding:
It is never too early: late summer it may be and not yet the "A" word but the Christmas Shop at Fortnum's is already peddling the festive season with piles of sparkly decorations and a minor Milky Way of winking lights:
I hope that you enjoyed coming along with me to London town. I will be there again next Saturday but this time not for work :=)