So, autumn's here with all her wondrous russets, golds and bronzes. Shall we write a poem to celebrate her beauty? Shall we set our latest short story in an arch of canopied branches, dripping with bracelets of honey-coloured leaves?
Having read the papers this morning, what we should actually be doing is erecting signs underneath trees, warning passers-by that acorns, conkers etc may fall on them!! Health and safety gone mad! They'll be stopping us from growing roses next, due to their dangerous thorns!
Please stop this madness and enjoy the changing seasons.
I think it's a corn-y idea!
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