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Good Morning Yorkshire

The sun announces its imminent welcome arrival
With colours that spill over the moors into the skyline.
The lustrous morning star bids its adieu and fades.

One last hoot from an owl returning to its home,
To be replaced by the boisterous quacking of ducks
Bickering noisily after their slumbers on the lake.

Up they come flying -  one, two, three and four -
On their flight-path over the rooftops of our town
To join their many friends mingling at the river bank.

The sun’s warming rays strike the cool autumn lake
Causing a veil of mist to gently rise from its depths.
Vibrant autumn colours replace the blackness of night.

Look, like pearls of silver, the moisture clings to hedges,
And the grass is attired in a mantel of glistening hoarfrost,
Whilst the hedge-top wears a covering of golden leaves.

Already my lawn is carpeted with hungry moorhens
And the ducks – usually the first ones to tap on my window.
The queue for the cafe is formed whilst I fetch their bread.


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