Posted - 17/01/2021 : 12:55:53
Thoughts of Summer
Thoughts often to the summer turn
carefree nights when we were young.
When swallows soared upon the wing
how every day new hope might bring.
Back gardens, lie abandoned now
fields untouched by hand or plough.
The ground's grown solid underfoot
the valley has a forlorn look.
We wonder why no bird now wings
nor preens its tail nor blithely sings.
Why children all seem locked away
till Springtime calls,'Come out to play.'
Winter nights are only prowled by cats
the trees upon the windows tap.
Their leaves now scattered far and wide
laying bare the very countryside...