Where Have All My Summer Powers Gone Poem by Mark Heathcote

Where have all my summer powers gone
When, once my love was an axe, wielded at anyone.
Not just because I was highly strung.
But because my strength never fatigued or succumb,
That or any yielding, the moon has given the sun.

Where have all my summer powers gone
That once arched like briars reaching for the sun.
That once hung gobbets of fruit; firm as an unripe plum
Musclebound, bursting, readied to run
To the orders of the starting pistol gun.

Where have all my summer powers gone
That once reached for the echelons of the sun.
Lift your glasses offer your libations to the gods
And add drops of blood to impress upon the ladies
Your devotion to their love could be second to none.