It's Midsummer, but it is not exactly summer weather outside... hence this poem.
Midsummer Blues
Gently weeping, it is heaven's cry
Softly falling rain, drizzling down
Cotton wool clouds in a grey sky
Soil damp and darkest brown
Sunshine comes, flitters away
Glimpses of a Summer past
But now it never comes to stay
Sunbeams flicker, never last
Midsummer day is here once more
But cold winds blow, chill the bones
Enchantment closing summer's door
The wind is sighing, oak tree moans
Midsummer blues at the dolmen now
And the leaves shaking, branches bow
La pathole d'aniet – Jèrriais word of today
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La pathole d'aniet – Jèrriais word of today: Tither ses canons quand
l'ennemîn a pâssé - to fire one's cannons when the enemy has passed (i.e.
too late)...
14 hours ago
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