Those hot, hazy days seem so distant now
bright blue skies, even the winds were warm,
and the sun slept little from its scarlet set
to another bright morning, a dazzling dawn.
But the sun soon slumbered, slow to rise,
and golden leaves glistened, jewelled by night's rain,
falling, twirling, they waltzed to Autumn's wind
leaving bristling bushes to face Winter again.
Now, frosty breezes begin their toil,
crispening a crust to slumbering soil
soon, plucky bulbs will peep, and the dark, stark trees
will herald Spring, again, with little green leaves.
Tony Bradley
