I tried to write a soft summer poem.
Image via Wikipedia
Image via Wikipedia
Image via Wikipedia
Yes, the summer was pleasant
Not very long ago
The sum beamed a radiant orange; wow!
And gently tapped the snow
The doting summer blew its breath
It sanctified the earth
Vanquished the killer germs, it did
Scorched them at birth.
The summer that shined on us
Once upon a time
Now it is a cynic
For it has lost its prime.
And the pretty sunrays
Are turning quite unkind
The tender breeze has blown astray
Its path we do not find.
The glowering rays now sear the grass
They do not kiss the flower
It wilts, oh! In sheer despair
And blight the summer hour.
The sweat of brow that could not drop
On the parched brown earth
Dried midway, crops did not sing
The merry note of birth.
The ripe fruit that gaily dropped.
On the lush green field
The trees are tired and disinclined
No more ready to yield
The world too has come of age
It knows the right and wrong
They why does it not cease to ring
That earth rattling gong?
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