Autumn Breeze, Wanders-Purposeful Poem by Mark Heathcote

The autumn breeze, wanders-purposeful
crispy-waves both warmish and cold
crisscross the lawn, sometimes wrathful,
other times gently consoled.

Like a lamb not quite ready to walk
skittish, at times ever so daring
leaping and rolling, like a windsock:
out of control or just bleating.

It's then we see the hurrying ladybirds
on the windowpane; trying to get in
it's then no more we hear them love birds
sing, evergreen in yew boughs akin.

As surely as winter steals the honey bee
of her final sting, as surely as the mushroom
packs up his infamous, mildewed, fairy-
ring, I'll endeavour to open the tomb
wherein the rose-pink Nerines perfume.

I'll endeavour to sing and flower forever
no matter the autumn or the winter weather.