All too soon
the Summer sheds her gown of green
and dons her cloak of rust
impatient to be moving on
and filled with next years lust
No sooner fitted and attired
she throws her garment down
upon the floor, and naked stands
and lets it turn to brown.
November mist will hide her shame
though sullen sun expose her
and shivering through the winter months
the white flakes cling and clothe her
The winds of March blow fresh thoughts in
and waken her from sleeping
and thread by thread, the green appears
and sets her heart a-leaping
and none too soon
She's gaily dressed
and all the world is smiling
her warmth and colour fill our souls,
Her prettiness beguiling.
© Rob King 2012
If you ask me, Rob, you are sounding distinctly spring-like here! (as in 'a young man's thoughts turn etc etc...)
ReplyDeleteHey, less of the young! I'm mature! I like to keep spirits up on a gloomy day Lynne, and looking forward is the way for me ;0)
ReplyDeletehaven't read this style in a while, wouldn't really expect to like it either, but I do. You're actually doing nature justice. This is beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThat's very kind of you KJ - thank you very much.
ReplyDelete