Seasonal Poems

Mid September, and the light morning passes,
A dew appears on the overnight grasses;
A chill in the air, though the sun breaks through,
Full moon in the sky, still in full view.

The sparkling strands of the spiders web,
Festooned with morning dew; a dazzling sight;
A pearl necklace, suspended between branch and twig,
Glistening, in the break of morning’s light.

Thowd chap's bowt me a greenhouse
said it'll keep me occupied
It's only a small un you know
one of them wi flaps down each side.

Thank God for that ! It’s Spring at last,
A time for early Sunday mornings, I fear;
After stagnating, through the blustery, wet Winter spell,
The Boot Fayre season is finally here !

There’ll be relentless trudging, up and down rows,
Dodging wares strewn across grassy fields;
Ankles twisted, stepping in troughs, where cars have been,
Constantly keeping keen eyes peeled.

It’s a lonely period, this time of year,
Now you’ve gone away;
You’ve left me to face it, all alone,
How I wish that you could stay.

I’ll still put the fairy on the tree,
The way you used to do;
But it’s purely out of habit,
…It reminds me, of you.

The distinctive cries of a new born babe
Could be heard from inside the shed;
The bleating of sheep, and braying of ass
Came from around the boy’s make-shift bed.