A Late Summer Sonnet.

(Again, the same inspiration).

Full green and dark the leaves bedeck the trees

And fruit is hanging heavy, filling fast,

Whilst drowsy wasps fight with the bumbling bees

And squirrels start to harvest nuts and mast.

Those last days of summer call from the beach

And people throng the roads in one mad rush.

Those promised lazy days are out of reach

The dying days of summer fading hush.

And still the man is bowed by many cares,

Recall of past mistakes a heavy load

And helping hands are grasped and tightly held.

No man can fight his way alone; he shares

The burdens with his friend upon the road

And dark’ning nights with comfort now he dwells.

(c) 2nd witch, 07/01/10