IT'S SPRIGHTLY SUMMER AND
A WEARY WINTER
Outside my window
blows a breeze
through the leaves
upon the trees.
The sun smiles
down on the park
as will the moon
after dark.
Yes outside my window
a breeze blows.
Will fall the rains,
will fall the snows,
the back-of-year sun
lose its glow,
for Time's sure swift
on his toes,
though in the winter
drags his feet
come the hard rains
or the heavy sleet.
But now the breeze,
the sun on park,
the leaves on show,
does my road greet.
A FOXY-FEMALE CHASER
I WAS NOT
A flame-haired fox
set my soul afire,
had my heart racing
with burning desire,
sure like a huntsman
on a vixen's track,
so like a horseman
with a hound-pack.
Yes a flame-haired fox
set my soul afire,
but for the very chase
I'd not the desire.
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