In promise of the Seasons
In promise of the Seasons
I have returned to the cradle of my being
those places and times which formed me
Moulded me into the person I now am
the oak with acorns about to fall
surrounded by a sea of drooping nettles
morning mists which shroud the dells
as dogs race around in the twilight fields
The expectancy of autumn
its foreboding, the onsett of winter
yet summer lingers, reluctant to depart
fearful of that final curtain call
These days hold me in their captive beauty
a splendour about to be overshadowed
only to reappear, but in that interrregnum
we often lose heart and plunge into despair
Spring with new life bounces back
a pre ordained sequence of an everlasting plan
The seasons were before and are after us
we can do no more than to sit in patient trust
and wonder
Taylor Crowshaw
Tue 11th Sep 2018 08:15
Hi Keith, I love to read as well as write poetry I was just re-reading some of my favourites.. This being one. To my horror I realised I had not commented.
So belatedly here goes.
The imagery is wonderful, we are all formed in different ways by our life experiences, our views on the world around us. Travelling back to our childhood transported by a smell, perhaps a country scene. Waiting for the inevitable... time never ceases it just rolls over us. So well described..thank you..?