Seasons Come and Seasons go

Autumn crocus has arrived

Purple hues imbued

By dappled light

Forest floors embellished

By the remnants

Of summer nights



And so it is that I

Have survived

Another season


I cannot speak

In rhyme

Or reason


The seas have raged

The tide has waned

Through it all

My strength remains


With tired soul

And aching heart

This old body

Marches on


There is no choice

So I raise my voice

And throw it out

To the cruel wind

The heartless thief

Seeks every note

Every word

Of my melancholic song


This spiteful wind

With it’s bitter bite


My will to fight


Seasons come

And seasons go

Weathered bones

Seek kind respite

In a homely hearth

And a soft pillow


Soon autumn golds

Will submit

To the glory of the winter


And around, around

The story goes


So come sit with me

While we warm our feet

I am so happy that

We had this chance

To meet.































◄ Shadows

A Million little Why's? ►


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Wed 5th Oct 2022 20:45

Thank you to all who took the time to like/comment on this piece. I ramble through the lanes of time and I find that ageing is a bittersweet process. Live well, dear friends.

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John Botterill

Tue 4th Oct 2022 15:25

Beautiful, Clare. Encapsulates the triumph of the human spirit! 😎

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Tue 4th Oct 2022 10:46

This poem describes so well the weary monotony of ageing and the absolute determination not to give in.

my will to fight"

"through it all
my strengh remains"

I love the spirit running through this poem.

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Stephen Gospage

Tue 4th Oct 2022 07:35

The cycle of the seasons, Clare, and here we are again, fighting our way through it. And it all happens so imperceptibly. A really interesting poem, Clare.

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