Sunday 13 September 2020

End Of Summer

 

We fear for our lives
For our children and our lovers
For our country and our friends,
As the wind dies slowly
It's pale murmour calling,
And sun drenched blossom closes weary eyes
The mourning drone of flies cluster by the trees,
And swooping swallows whisper in the skies
The once golden apples lie fallen on the ground.
The old thrush sings his solitary song
And summers no longer by his side,
Though its memory keeps calling
Among the haunting sadness that envelopes us
Shadows fusing, clouds drifting by,
As Autumn makes way, words still outpour
And Birds fly to warmer climes,
Close the window, fasten the door
As the days grow cold, sit by the fire,
When the morning comes tumbling down
Don't forget to keep wearing your masks.

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