A hot summer burns each golden day then Autumn
calls with it's coat of grey. Falling leaves and winds
that are strong a mild taste of winter that can be hard
and long. A faded blue sky turns a misty grey as it heads
down that darkend way. Then after dawn the sun rarely shows
but the embers in the fire just glows and glows.
The sea and the surf just crash on the shore another year over
just as many before.Fishermen take time to mend their nets
the catch is now over but there are no regrets.
Days of the year told in time and tide, a circle around the world
as the seasons divide.A different climate for bird and beast but
poverty remains and for those there is no feast.
A green pasture for one and a desert for another pray tell me
why this Earth has been called Mother.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem