“A Summer’s Idyll”
A lonely chair awaits
By a fountain splashing
For a reader to arrive
With some children laughing.
That scarlet Acer
Frames this place
Where life assumes
A slower pace.
He sits reading in the sun
Basking like a lizard,
While the children swirl about
Like snowflakes in a blizzard.
The thrum of distant mowers
Punctuate the day
And saturates the air
With scents of fresh cut hay.
It’s all a balm for racing thoughts
But shadows slowly lengthen;
Surliness replaces joy
In spite of every effort taken
And thus, this day,
Its courses run,
Becomes an idyll;
A dream of fun.
Aroil in Pain 