Autumn Song
By Sarojini Naidu
Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow,
The sunset hangs on a cloud;
A golden storm of glittering sheaves,
Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves,
The wild wind blows in a cloud.
Hark to a voice that is calling
To my heart in the voice of the wind:
My heart is weary and sad and alone,
For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone,
And why should I stay behind?
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My Thursday was not much more exciting than my Wednesday, which is fine because it was a very gloomy, dark day. I am now up to putting the T CDs into the last binder that we have -- we shall have to order another -- and got various other chores done, plus I managed a Pokemon raid in the park as it was getting dark.
I watched this week's Ghosts (Hetty, you can do better than a no-pants Wharton asshole) before my Thursday night chat group, then we watched the amazing episode of The Crown about Sydney Johnson and Mohamed Al-Fayed. Since Thursday was entirely dark and gloomy, here is a glorious sunset from earlier in the week:
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