Memories of Summer’s Faded Promise

To the north-west the cumulus clouds swirls billow high
The swallows have taken to the wing, to the south to fly…

May, June ‘twas a sodden mess… July’s weather much the same
More reserved for the autumn grim, twill rain, again and again…

August, September… we saw a bright day or three
Alas, that warmth with the swallows did south flee

First day sun dabs golden scarlet on the tips of the cloud
While… elsewhere… mist covers all with a wet, soggy shroud

Swifts or martins’ sweet song no longer in the air
Only the choking, croaking of the crows… I swear

There’s white on the ground, a crunching beneath unsteady feet
Leaves, litter… tossed about by the breeze along the empty street

Darkness draws in, soon the solstice will arrive
How will we another winter in this chill survive?

It’s simple I say, we’ll get by with the hope of Christmas cheer
As we wish for that magic, and the new spring too draw near…

gold and red...

Enjoy your weekend… have fun! And, if you’re wondering… the photo was taken through the dirty train window… what a filter!

About aj vosse

Love life, live love... share life... share love!
This entry was posted in Family & Life, Seasons, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Memories of Summer’s Faded Promise

  1. geogypsy2u says:

    Yet summer will return, or at least the summer months if not the sunshine.

    Like

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