This summer breeze that blows, my love,
only spreads the seeds of winter;
this heat won’t slow the process,
just add interminable sweat and flies
to a mix where paradise may
or may not exist.
So don’t abandon your hope to the bitter
taste of all you’ve yet to regret
‘cause while you have it you still live,
tho’ the seasons will not forgive or slow
the rhyme and reason to allow
your true nature to show.
Is there something burning, my love?
Is it the parkland of your soul?
Don’t you know its bushfire season
and you’ve let yourself dry out.
Comments
exogenesis | January 27, 2010 - 08:10
neat ending to a really good write .top marks !
Dynamaso | January 27, 2010 - 10:07
Exo, thank you for reading and for your lovely comment. Much appreciated.
Nathan Bednarek | January 27, 2010 - 15:22
Another wonderful poem! Much enjoyed. Well done.
Nathan.
MistakenMagic | January 27, 2010 - 16:48
Love those last to lines, Dynamaso! It's great to read your poetry and get hints of Australia - it's been two years since I was last there and I really miss it - so thanks for this little remembrance ;)
Magic xxx
Silver Spun Sand | January 27, 2010 - 18:28
Love the hint of sarcasm in this one, Dynamaso...or is it perhaps more than a hint.?
And I so agree with Magic about 'hints of Australia'.
A little gem.
Tina
Dynamaso | January 28, 2010 - 02:28
Nathan, thanks very much, mate. Glad you enjoyed this one.
Dynamaso | January 28, 2010 - 02:30
Magic, thanks for noticing. In some small way, I am a product of my environment. What part of Australia did you like the most?
Dynamaso | January 28, 2010 - 02:31
Tina, thanks very much. I'm pleased you saw the underlying tone in this one. Well spotted...