Shorter days, longer nights, writing poems for the first time ever, that's on my mind.

This year has been odd to say at least, sadly it isn't over yet. As the days are becoming shorter, darker, and much colder; things are changing. I don't dislike autumn or winter but, as we are once more unable to do much outdoors due to the pandemic never really going away, I would rather have summer back.

Sitting in my kitchen, drinking freshly ground coffee, my eyes travel across the garden. Leaves on the ground, few birds flying around, nothing much happening. Funny enough, my daughter walks in and asked, why we don't go and pick the last of raspberries left before the frost comes in. I can safely say that was the best suggestion ever, as there were more than just a few. And so soft and sweet, nothing beats homegrown.

So, after our little raspberry feast, I randomly took a piece of paper and started writing a few words down as I go. At the end, I've put them together and this is what happened, a little poem.
I've not come up with a title for it yet; probably never will.

This poem is very much incomplete without a couple of photos below which inspired it all; actual raspberries from our garden.

Both images were taken with the same camera setting.

This was my first ever attempt on poetry, which makes me wonder; are the above words classed as a poem? Not sure they are. Did I enjoy spending an hour or so writing it down, organising the layout of this article, and taking the photos? Sure I did!
All that said, the taste of the last several of this year's raspberries was, as younger me would say, epic!

All of the photos are mine as are all the words included in the article, and I hope you'll enjoy.

Thanks for stopping by and take care.