Late Autumn Lament
by cricketjeff on November 24, 2016. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
There was mist deep on the meadow and the skeletons of trees
Hazy hints of autumn sunlight and a non-existant breeze.
No birds were singing love songs, just a slowly flying crow
Past a man lost in his daydreams who had nowhere left to go.
Long ago there had been springtime filled with flowers everywhere
And they’d walked this same lost footpath with the sunlight in her hair
Little giggles soon grew softer and her lips became a kiss
When a question made a Mrs from his World’s most perfect miss
On the hill the church’s steeple was a postcard silhouette
And the life he wasn’t living seemed so easy to forget
There were hedges filled with silence, and a donkey far away
As he turned towards the future and another lonely day.
In those summers they’d played cricket or had picnics by the stream
Then they’d herded all their children to their beds and time to dream
With a jam jar filled with pond-life and six very dirty knees
Everyday was filled with laughter as she gave his hand a squeeze
Each one called him for a natter or stopped by for tea and cake
Or the soft and crumbling biscuits she had taught him how to bake
But the style was like a cliff-face and the road was three miles wide
Walking home each autumn evening since his wife, and life, had died.
Author notes
If I could paint I’d put a picture on this
English