Here's a link to "In a Summer Garden," which, on reflection, has very little to do with the theme of "Season's Change," but what the hell... It was written in August 1980 and posted on 4 June 2012. (By the way, in the final stanza the rhythm requires that the Greek word Agápe be pronounced Agapé. Not having any Greek I am confused because the Oxford English Dictionary - before the wokeist luvvies got hold of it - gives the latter pronunciation.)
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The seasons change,
The body aches,
And there’s no joy in ale and cakes;
The great estrange
From warmth to cold
Shivers the flesh like shoes un-soled:
Hallows’ Eve for some
Comes with deaths and wakes.
Plans neatly plumb,
Ambitions great,
For one who lived beyond the gate
Collapsed to crumb;
And fates and loves
Now ripped and stained like floor-dropped gloves
Fester in remorse,
Tapping sorrow’s drum.
Thoughts become coarse
And limbs are crick,
Eyes wander, guilty, with a tic;
Like frost on gorse
Sins' razors cut,
Selves parlay but can only “but”:
Wary, bodies limp –
Judged, no longer trick.
And grits are skimp,
The urbs decays,
Its self-myth stripped to un-gemmed clays,
Grey-veined and crimp;
Exhaustion’s moan
Finals what now will be ungrown:
City walls unkept
Shadow thief and pimp.
Now Time has crept
To winter’s brim:
Will riddling Birth or roisters’ whim –
A foot which stepped
Through crusted snow –
Scuffle a path that men might know
Warmth, spring’s flaring hum;
Truth, that’s nature’s limn?
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© October 2021
