Party Time

A fiery clown has come down

Over forests, lanes and towns.

No trumpets blown, no drums rolled,

Out of the morning mists he strolled.


Yello! Yello! It's party-time!,

He smiled. His reds and golds he sprayed around.

And God's whole house was swathed with hues untold.

All about the orange glowed, crimson leaves displayed.


The ceiling now was light with blue.

Gardens, hedges, horizons luminesced.

And in men's hearts was measured joyful rest.

And some did overflow, who in gold were dressed.


The party clown fills his weeks,

Fills the lanes and fills the streets,

With all his fallen finery.

We rake up and try to tidy.



◄ Decisions! Decisions!

Leaves ►


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Tue 22nd Oct 2019 17:56

Thanks Ruth, thanks Don, Chris and Robert - yes just over two weeks back in the old country. Back on line but only via a tablet, no office, we rent a box (mobile home/trailer). Surprisingly comfortable for a box. Still not yet in any routine.
Go well

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Don Matthews

Sun 20th Oct 2019 22:54

No more cheap French wine......ah, such is life...😎

But other things make up for it....

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Ruth O'Reilly

Sun 20th Oct 2019 22:49

Nice to see you back online, Have you set up your office again? Last time you told us you were moving. I enjoyed the way you coloured in some of the middle text. Welcome back!

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