September now has passed from view
and Autumn in the mists
of dank and often dreary
days of Winter’s cold and
unsympathetic hand.
Suppose we, then, weep not for days in
whose long, languid shadows
we swore at sweat, nor regret
the changing climes
in these fearful times.
Soon the sap will run again like
rushing tides, life’s vein will
pump wildly to keep time
as we sip wine toasts
to new beginnings
and Summer’s play.
I shall give you a bloom for every
moment passed in those hot,
sopping days of free fun
that someone does not,
in foolish jest,
suggest
a frigid day
might count them blessed.
CKP copyright words and images 2019
Hop over to Dan’s sofa
and bring along some hot tea. He has been under the weather. We miss you waxing witt-tastically at the bar! Get well soon.
This post brought to you by Linda Hill and her #SoCS prompt. Jump over to her place for more great prompts and join the fun.
Dreaming Reality 
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