The Failing of Summer and the Coming of Fall
I barely hear them hearken as the gulls continue to call. Days filled with gold and blue wane now the familiar begins to fade.
Rustic cut outs litter the vast grey with the beckoning of fall. Held fast as these boughs sway I stand unafraid.
Tumultuous joy enriched by your laughter rippling my soul. Held in thrall as your eyes echo the dance to the melody we played.
Threats of the winter though looming seem paltry, seem small. Scorched clean by the fires you kindle I fear no dismay.
Summer’s not gone it still illuminates my halls. Love will build sandcastles as our dreams and their creations continue their play.