Wet

So you like swimming in nature with me as well as riding the wilds my knight of the old country-which ever you like to name. Yes it REALLY rained and rained and rained, I wrote several poems about it it was so dominating while it was carrying-on in the sky. Now it looks wisfully grey in the twilight, although the colours of the firs are there and even the corn is getting brighter colour in its cheeks each day, in spite of the damp, perhaps because of it as we all love water. Thank you my Geezer, the Geezer of old, still young I guess, Yours Ann of Norway

I may repeat myself here as i have already answered you but here goes. Honourable Sir Gee poet of the realm of Neopoetland, I see you floating by and wave ass you swim with all that regalia on and it might sink if you move too much. Oh what a lovely image I conjured up for you, yes it is an innocent nature vision this with no underlying, or lying down intentions, just the blooming wet that has been falling all yesterday non-stop. I look out now from my kitchen window at GREEN leaves, nothing else at the moment as the 'Summer' has made them so. There are the birds and they like the rain, not being sunbathers! The little apples on the old leaning tree are turning red on one side and the great Sir Jay comes in his dress coat to fix them whole in his beak and frighten away all the other warblers, robins, thrushes, great and blue tits, wrens, and those acrobatic flycatchers. The top of the mountain, Skorve (1370m.), is shrouded in cloud. So your Queen Ann sits on her throne of green, not 'eating bread and honey', but meusli at her breakfast and sends her thoughts to you whatever you are doing at this moment 4th Aug.9 a.m.