a poppy seed flies in the wind
and landing lightly on the earth
lies waiting for sun’s energy
to germinate and give it birth
a droplet falls from rainy skies
weak sunlight warming with its rays
until in spring new growth begins
it’s bloom sublime on summer days
blood red a field of poppies shine
each one a hundred others yield
these symbols ever in our hearts
of all who die on Flanders field
while kneeling looking for a sock
(there’s always one that runs amok)
the drier being warm and cosy
started feeling rather dozy
just fell asleep and think it shocking
to snore while searching for a stocking
I watched alone by sunlit edge
of pond and meadow touching hands,
those flirting leaves that twitched and swirled,
gold dessication incomplete.
While water ruffling to shore
beneath bowed willows’ trailing arms
pushed tender shards of russet brown
to curl contentedly in reeds.
No harsh sounds to be heard that day
– all living things were hushed and still,
yet autumn whispered in the breeze
and summer hummed a sad farewell.
why say more
when three will do?
I love you
summer means lawn bowls
a sport to enjoy, so good
for mind and body
they said you can’t
that did it
– just watch me!