“The water, like a witch’s oils, Burnt green, and blue and white.” – The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
“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-eaves run” – To Autumn by John Keats
“I strolled down the cobblestone streets, soaking in the golden sunlight that dappled through the leaves above me.”
“The electrifying guitar riffs resonated in my chest, and I could feel the pulse of the crowd.”