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Mellow Fruitfulness — 2 Comments

  1. I wonder: had Keats already decided, when penning this glorious ode, that this would be his last work of his life as a poet? Did he have some deep-seated premonition of his own death, a couple of years later – at the age of just 25? Such a poignant poem! Here in the walled garden, autumn fruits are swelling, ripening, and calling out to be gathered up: apples, japonica quince, rose hips, blackberries, aubergines … and mellowist of all – o’er brimming with juicy tastiness – the last tomatoes still weighing down the vines. Aubergines – the purple of their flowers and fruit the very epitome of autumn – seem determined to set flowers and produce fruit as long as their is warmth in the sun and human hand to tend them!

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