Rosemary Old f lame PROOF
“It was Keats – or one of that crowd – who described autumn as the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. That’s the trouble with poets. They just can’t seem to help looking on the bright side.
The rest of us are feeling the cold, and wondering whether it’s time to get out the winter duvet. We’re noticing that the nights are drawing in, and some of us are complaining about the leaves that we will have to rake up. But not Mr Keats, oh no.
