when i survey the richness of the land on a storm - tossed summer's day my eye weeps with the wind breathes with the storm as it weaves me into the dance of air laughing across the fields. these winds do pass, and so once more the land exhales its wealth of perfume and flowers with a gentle sigh, languidly stretching in the warmth ofa summer's day. and yet i see a few leaves falling ... already autumn soughs deep and beckons summer's end.
DEUS VULT