Spring’s promise of high summer

has passed, the lush greens gone,

and now less vibrant. Parched.

Stale somehow. Disappointing.

The promise so much sweeter

than reality; the heady warmth;

sun filled days and mirage haze

the balmy heat, hot naked nights.

We should enjoy this time, by rights

but if it brings us closer to the fall;

the Autumn of our life, if that is all

then can we not enjoy the cooling

promised winter chill, another world,

its yielding to the blacks and whites

mysterious greys, the icy haze,

the freezing hibernation, preserving.

But no. An early Spring, that comes

too soon, and sooner still the melting

Arctic ice. One day, there’ll be no more

dreaming of a summer honeymoon.

© 2017 John Anstie, All rights reserved.

2 thoughts on “Honeymoon’s Over

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