i forced myself to write something
so just a few drops
i found myself in crosswords
until that doors are closed
i exhaust myself for a few syllables
until that time i reach you
i jumped from line to line
i fell down and got shot
now anger pushes me below..

I  walk  slowly  down  the  winding  path
of  my  lovely  summer  garden.

I  admire  the  blushing  roses
kissed  by  the  overnight  rain.

The  air  is  warmed
by  the  bright-faced  sun.

Many  bright  fragrant  blossoms
bloom  beneath  the  orchard  wall.

The  sun  flickers  through  the  fruit  trees
making  pretty  patterns  on  the  mown  grass.

I  then  sit  quietly
where  the  sun  burns  you  a  deep  brown.

Yes,  summer  is  wonderful
but  alas  it's  soon  gone.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2016.