September

September
 
 
With sunshine after a summer of rain
fall approaches in softened light.
Harvested is the grain.
Birds gather for their destined flight
when summer ends.
 
 
Foliage turns already to gold,
a touch of brown is mingled with the green
when mists of early mornings’ cold
rise in the warmth of the mild sheen
the sun still sends.
 
 
Motionless hawks are circling round,
are hanging there high,
looking for prey down to the ground.
Now one is falling out of the sky
like a thrown stone.
 
 
With pearls of dew late summer’s webs
are decorated. Dark ivy still
covers the fallen mossy slabs
near the top of the hill
building a throne.
 
 
There I sit cosy and wonder
when all this beauty will end
Suddenly thunder.
Dark clouds above the trees ascend.
First heavy drops - windblown.
 
 
 
© I. Beddies


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