The best laid schemes o' mice and men?
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Morning has broken Morning has broken Clear clear skies after the storm Birds are forming Their morning chorus Heard only by us it seems The cockerel heralds the village to work The mountains raise out their arms As if to say..this is ours Tree wooded mountains With snow still clinging on To the ragged peaks Late spring means poppies Wild roses in every hedgerow The fields still green before The heat burns them brown The fruits of autumn only a promise still The sun still soft warms our skins We shift our rhythms to this ancient pace A new dog says a shy hello Perhaps he will return? Let our time here unfold... The grand plan in this visit is for me to be working on my book. In my head I'm working mornings and holidaying in the afternoon. So the news our house had been burgled in our absence wasn't welcome. The cooker, fridge, boi