And Now For Something Completely Different. Poetry.

While lying in bed last night, during the pre-asleep stream of consciousness cool down phase, the bug bit me. Specifically it was the poetry bug that bit me. I did not so much lie there composing, but knowing I needed (maybe not desperately, but still needed) to compose . . . Something.

Anyway, here goes. Whether or not it is any good, I am not going to say. I am just pleased I can still bang out a Shakespearean sonnet in under an hour!


Missing Summer


As Winter's icy grip does hold me close
And life sustaining warmth drains from my room,
The contest seems to me one I might loose
If I can not escape her crushing gloom

For Summer's memories seem far from mind,
The time, the place the touch of something hale
A hush, caress, a warm kiss oh so kind,
The causes for a heart and mind to sail

However lovely Summer's love appears
Those joys are nothing but remberance,
And letting Winter's cold embrace raise fears
Could paralyze my heart, as circumstance

From Mistress Winter's grap I would retreat,
But barring that, I must avoid defeat.