Do the colder months collude?


And, I wonder,

are the colder months colluding?


Would warring Winter, pause?

Could audacious Autumn, wait?


Or, does the vexed, brooding

and unruly thunder

shape the sordid

cause

of the lightning,

hale, snow and rain?


Why does the gourmand, wolfy-pack,

have to, spit,

growl, and, attack,

the Spring, and, the Summer?

Do they resent;

the clement, balmy days.

Or, just, yearn to take their place?


Mankind has reached it’s own;

November,

suffering unscrupulous mists; a fog of charging cheats,

compassion is a disillusioned ember, smothered and crushed

below;

fraught

autumnal

feet.


A stampeding fall persists,

clenched in the dying undergrowth,

of doomed and dark deceit.


So, do the colder months collude?

That remains, forever, to be

seen.


But, the human race to season, enroot, ended in; self-defeat.

Fallen;

from favour;

from grace;

gone

trees.


A final, lonely leaf of fortitude;

fell, and, lost, beyond the evergreen.


Blue sky thinking


Cool breeze

Eases the heat

Smiling sunshine’s

Caress is sublime

From head to feet.


Hopeful faces

Content, courageous

Sweet chitter chatter

Feet pitter patter

On pavement, in places.


A new beginning

Each day is bringing

Future plans

Are grasped in hands

And seized for winning.


Spirit grows not shrinking

Heart blooms not sinking

Exhilarating azure

Makes a dark mind pure

By it’s blue sky thinking.


The Sun and The Son


The Sun carries the fate

Of our future on its back

The Son carries the weight

Of his past in his pack.


The Sun practices beaming

Ready for the summer show

The Son forever dreaming

Of freedom free to grow.


The Sun solemn staring

At a world disintegrating

The Son struggles caring

In a world hell-bent on hating.


The Sun won’t last forever

But will far out last the Son

The Son’s a trifle clever

But he won’t surpass the Sun.