Thursday 20 September 2012

The Year Becomes A Woman



Listen – it is breathing, in the air it manifests

Sotto and in rhythm, between each beat it rests

The childish pop of spring and punk’s summer adolescence

Become a string adagio, harmonious in it’s presence

A requiem for August devoid of spite or gall

She is the gentle calm in the orchestra of the fall



Look – she is most radiant in her very imperfection

The fashion house of nature reveals autumns collection

Gone the frills and petticoats, the ribbons and the bows

Farewell bikini, sunglasses and varnished nails on toes

Natures sultry striptease, not naked but undressing

September offers just a glimpse, October keeps us guessing



You can feel her breathing as the breeze that’s in your hair

The warmth and her gelidity do battle in the air

In motherhood resplendent, she kneels – her head is bowed

In deference to winter, she is knowing but not proud

Though spring was far too flighty and summer lived too fast

The year has grown to adulthood and is a woman now at last