July empties itself over hot fields.
Grass, long since faded, now droops sadly while
Quielty dying, - even the earth yields
Up no droplet of dew. Barren, it smiles
...
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Summer, Spring and Winter Falls and break like splinters Broken peaces came to end We as human cannot amend Take each piece as it own And cast its images into stone To Cherish each on a desired day None can do this as lady Fay.
A wonderfully perceptive picture of July. But somewhere in the distance, I can hear the subtle sound of a falling autumn leaf. Your superb last lines confirm this.10/10, my eloquent friend. Love, SandraX
This poem is beautiful, Fay. I thought I was casting my eyes over a Shakespearean sonnet - iambic pentameter, the message in the closing couplet - a breathtaking piece! S :)
Fay, nothing dry about your poem...full of burning summer images. A poem crafted in accurate observations.10/10 Ian
So true " But with Autumn's demands, summer must fall" . A good line for ending a simple yet potent poem.