Heart Of The Matter
Deepest Discontent
August,
And September,
Almost gone,
Like sweetened dreams,
Portrayed in summers song,
The full moon seems,
A million miles away,
Yet close enough,
To impact on the day,
The promise,
Of a summer, unfulfilled,
The autumn foliage,
Tired,
And deathly chilled,
Yet holding on,
With weakened,
Fingertip,
And yielding to release,
Their futile grip.
Preparing now,
For winter's sad lament,
October heralds,
Deepest discontent.
And September,
Almost gone,
Like sweetened dreams,
Portrayed in summers song,
The full moon seems,
A million miles away,
Yet close enough,
To impact on the day,
The promise,
Of a summer, unfulfilled,
The autumn foliage,
Tired,
And deathly chilled,
Yet holding on,
With weakened,
Fingertip,
And yielding to release,
Their futile grip.
Preparing now,
For winter's sad lament,
October heralds,
Deepest discontent.
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Deepest Discontent
Deepest Discontent
