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Once eternal, Summer nods tired envy to
her seasonal sister.
The bright hues of Autumn come to heed
her plea.
Heralds of bright droplets on cold winds
and a whisper.
In ev’ry new drop, her new world set
free.
Sweet dreams to Summer dethroned, a bow
of her head.
Come lay with me Summer, with memories of
self-sacrifice.
Ascendant Autumn how soon will be Winter,
colour all bled?
Glorious Summer, yours is the golden reign
to your sisters thrice
Your bounty to nourish through hard, cold
days and long,
A sister playing her part in the melody
of life.
The land laments your passing with
sweetness of song.
The wood pigeon’s calls, echoes our
strife,
“Don’t go! No! Sum-mer.”
“Don’t go! No! Sum-mer.”
3 comments:
A late-night sonnet! This is really poetic. Your mind lends itself well to verse, Stuart; I'm surprised that you haven't written more of it. The word "anthropomorphise" comes to mind: a classic feature of poetry. This is a very welcome addition to our, until now, underpopulated sonnet section. I like it. More, please!
Alex
I love the ‘Don’t go’ couplet at the end - really echoes the cooing of doves.
Very beautiful, and I love the antromorphism (if that's a word!!) The cooing of the birds at the end is a lovely idea, and a great change of rhythm.
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