Changing seasons

{Because I hadn’t been well for a few days I almost missed the changing of the seasons here in the southern part of our beautiful little island of Tasmania. I was reminded of a poem I wrote some years ago about this, and which I still like.}

Lady in Waiting.
Lady Summer rose from sleep, and shook her golden tresses,
to claim the day before her, as she donned her flowery dresses.
But suddenly her hand was stayed, her eyes quite thoughtful grew,
for she heard a softened rustling, that was old, but somehow new.
She laid aside her gowns, then to the window sped,
and I am sure I heard her sigh,as I watched her droop her head.
I too peeped out the window, and there to my surprise,
I saw a maid whose laughing face, held merry, clear, brown eyes.
She swirled her skirts of many colours, as she spun in joyful dance,
And Lady Summer looked upon her, as one in dreadful trance.
Till quietly the dancer slowed, and to the window neared;
I wondered then just what it was that Golden Summer feared.
But Oh! I saw the maid’s brown hand commandingly extended
And realised quite startlingly, that Lady Summer’s reign had ended.
She curtsied low, then turned away, as she shut the window tight
The room was darkened suddenly, as if the day was night.
I stumbled out to seek the morn, that I knew had just begun;
I sought the warmth of yesterday but found no Summer’s sun.
Though coloured leaves came floating on a gentle, fragrant breeze,
and everywhere the brown-gold day, brought scenes just meant to please.
I drank deep of the mellow air, then felt the soft caress
of silken panels touching me, in the maiden’s coloured dress.
She hugged me quickly to her, I returned her sweet embrace;
for suddenly I recognised Dame Autumn’s gracious face.


Dianthus and seaside daisy

 Lady Summer


Dame Autumn


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