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Ambling Down To Hambleden

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Above the fields of stubble

Against the autumn skies

The kites announce their presence

With piercing, whistling cries

While down below the pheasants

Scatter in alarm

Running for fresh cover

Near lonely hillside farm

Ambling down to Hambleden

Through woods where brown leaves fall

The sylvan silence broken

By green woodpeckers call.

Hambleden Woods.jpg
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