Met once, in the harbour of need,
She found a soul she thought was akin
To her own, lonely and bleeding
For want of love  and she felt it  begin.

For a while days took on the glow
of feeling alive, blew away mists from
dull disillusion knowing he
mattered more than his actual kisses.

Distance became a mutual
sore and as never before tears began
staining her hours, duty
bound her and she became fearful.

Pouring out verses of angst
served to assert her desperation, she
survived but control, reserved
for good writing became essential.

And gone now, she wanted no more.
Sleep failed her, she was assailed
With sickness she'd not known before
And vivacity became veiled.

Now looked at, her yesterday-thoughts
Brought back miserable night-black times,
When her words scribed non-action, taught
Nothing but how to keep whining.

Lost love held the winning hand, truth
Was labelled by her own longing.
Compassionate chores  wore duty
Reluctantly, rhymes spun sad songs.


But her soul saw a more hopeful rest.
She found life demands detachment,
Then phrases write themselves sensibly
And acceptance of "now"  enraptures.

Yesterday's thinking was halted,
Captured in poetic fore-thought.

Too soon comes Autumn, as nipping the heels
Of unwary Summer it stealthily seals
Small changes in heavily leaf-laden trees.
Summer fruits begin dropping, balanced astride
Branches festooned, in which Autumn takes hide
Before battle commences it's shivery breeze
Which scatters browned leaves, to bring to their knees
Beaten down Summer days of warm ease.

Autumn comes running, nor waits to abide
While brave Summer blooms adjust to it's ride.
It tosses, relentless, all 'Summer' it sees
Havocing treetops, nor does it allay
It's mischievous goadings for yet one more day.
Scurrying birds sense each warning of chill.
Consistently peck around my window-sill,
Fattening on seeds before temperatures freeze.

Autumn comes running
To stay.