Treasure Island

Dean Bottomley



Wan tired sun on dozing fields;
Leaves spiraling down to fall asleep;
The calm that follows summers flush:
The earth has given birth.

Blooded bushes to feed the birds:
Black sloes to spice the gin.
The corn gathered for bread and beer;
The earth can now relax.

In country church the harvest Hymn
The thank the earth for plenty.
The warmth has gone, freeze yet to come
Limbo is in the air.

Speedos away, dig out the scarf,
Sun Cream gives way to flu jab.
Bangs flash whizzers, children shriek
Bonfire burns down low.

Halloween gone, bonfire over;
And Christmas still awaited.
Coats and gloves are now essential:
The earth at last can sleep.

Submitted: Monday, February 24, 2014
Edited: Tuesday, February 25, 2014

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