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#ode to autumn
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The Code of the Woosters, PG Wodehouse, 1938
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bryonyashaw · 2 years
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Everybody is looking for instant success, but it doesn't work that way. You build a successful life one day at a time and not each day is the same. Not each success is the same.
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jo-presta · 5 months
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it snowed today where I live, so I created this as my ode to the autumn that has almost passed:((
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teacherscrapbook · 8 months
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micvonmessenger · 1 year
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fairyforestcottage · 2 years
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feeling like…i don’t have nearly enough thick cozy cardigans in colors like oatmeal, tawny, wheat, camel, so on, so forth…need to be cozier…all wrapped up
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apoemaday · 2 years
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To Autumn
by John Keats
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep, Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers: And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cyder-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,— While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft; And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
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derangedrhythms · 2 years
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Percy Bysshe Shelley, from 'Ode to the West Wind'
TEXT ID: O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,
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lunalovegood2 · 25 days
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Whether jamming irl or online, I know we’ll have a good time. Joined together all in song, Oh we could go all night long. We’ll be laughing and clapping and playing along. To songs that everyone knows. And it goes: We feel it in our souls, the magic of rock and roll. Oh, we really really miss wizard rock shows.
Ode to Wizard Rock, Autumn Brooke
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fancypantsrecords · 10 months
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Zuriaake - Autumn Of Sad Ode / Ghost Ritual | Northeast Steel Industry | 2023 | Orange with Yellow Splatter
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sewshedid · 2 years
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The Ode to Autumn quilt top I finished recently!
It's made of flannel and oh my goodness I have such love for it! I'm waiting for the backing fabric I want to go on sale, but I'll definitely update once I get it.
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tractorbeamofwoe · 2 years
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another one for bobby!
letting them take a sip of your drink, then another, then another, then- you might as well let them keep it
“Bobby for Christ sakes if you take anymore sips of my drink you’re gonna finish it before I’ve even had a mouthful!” You reprimanded him, rolling your eyes as he smirked and removed his mouth from the straw that was submerged in your orange juice. Emphasis on was because now the glass was practically half empty. “Just one sip.” He’d begged you after finishing his own cocktail. You foolishly let him and made the mistake of taking your eyes off the man for just a moment too long, only to turn back and find way more than a sip missing.
“Relax, it’s still half full look.” He grinned then, fringe sticking to his forehead as you’d spent the day in the tropical sun. You decided to take refuge from the blistering heat in this cafe you found that was overlooking the beach, view framed by palm trees. Rob insisted he could handle the temperatures of the Bahamas, claiming “I’m a regular in Ibiza babe, I don’t sweat anymore.” But his pale Irish genes disagreed. You were both more sunburned than you’d ever been.
You sighed, pushing the glass towards him and standing up from your seat. “You can finish it off if you like, I’m gonna go get another one with double the amount of ice cause I feel like my insides are on fire.”
Rob gave you a thumbs up, cheeks puffed out as he tried to swallow the rest of the juice in one mouthful. You paused then, adding
“Oh, and NO taking sips this time. It’s MINE, got it?”
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teacherscrapbook · 8 months
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raikkonens · 1 year
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I love you cup of tea I love you heating pad I love you hot bath I love you fuzzy socks I love you warm soup I love you fireplace I love you cozy blanket I love you knit sweater I love you things that make me feel like this:
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credit: liberty ewan
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oakthcrn · 1 month
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"No, no! It's not my blood!"
Blood blood blood blood
accepting @ode-of-odr
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Lark arched a brow and stared up at the other with an unwavering glance.
❝ If it isn't your blood, then pray tell who's blood is it? ❞
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