
September sloe crop
reflects ultra violet light.
Hawfinches home in.
Human foragers
compete to harvest fruit first,
not yet drunk on gin.
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Author: Sarah Potter Writes
Sarah is a British eccentric who writes offbeat fiction, haiku and tanka poetry. When stuck for words, she sketches or paints instead. She's into nature conservation, sustainability, gardening, dogs, natural health, and reading. Her sociability is something that happens in short bursts with long breathing spaces in between.
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Good atuff (now that I know the otigins of sloe gin!)
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You’ve obviously tasted the stuff. I do hope you were good company afterwards, Dale. I’m not a great lover of gin in any shape or form, as it can make people very cranky!
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Crikey… remind self NOT to respond using phone without glasses on nose…
I’ve actually never tasted the stuff. I just kept hearing the term “sloe gin” and had no idea why it was called such!
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Words sound so peaceful.
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Always glad to soothe my fellow bloggers!
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And I was. 🙂
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Love the way this is both about the beauty of the fruits of the season, but you also got the gin in!
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Thank you, Andrea 🙂 It definitely required a haiku double, as I just couldn’t say all I wanted to say in one.
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