Seasons

Golden trees of many a hue

Crisp cold mornings, skys so blue

Awake, awake oh winters frost

Pretending now that summers lost

The wind is up, to quite a squall

As summer transitions to into fall.

Not over yet, it’s only near

We’re hardly through another year

September comes, October goes

We long so much for winter snows

Soon be Christmas the elves all say

Best prepare old Santa’s sleigh.

Then Christmas comes, and then it’s gone

To the old, old year we say, “so long”

As new year comes and new year goes

It’s then the frost will bite our toes

Then winter changes into spring

We wonder what this summer’ll bring.

©joseph r mason 2020

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https://tinyurl.com/y6epwyjf

An English Dawn.

The owl ceases his haunting hoot,

Fluffs his feathers to sleep,

Locking in the heat,

His day is done.

The dim light of dawn rises over a misty morn,

Stars gently fade to nothing

Returning in the dullness of evening,

Switching on in a sequence known only to their maker.


Passerine birds awake the dawn.

Robins and wrens start the day,

Great tits follow soon,

then the chiffchaff

and the blackcap.

Blackbirds and thrushes follow on.

The orchestra of the morning works to a crescendo of sound.

Then, as the sun pushes its first fingers of light

Into the chill of the morning.


Silence.


Save for the sway of trees,

The rushing of a brook,

The scamper of rabbits.

The snap of a twig underfoot.

Dryads and Hamadryads come out, come to me.

Is it just the russell of leaves?

Or do the really trees sing?

As night meets day.


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gods – (small ‘g’).

Not one of my better missives or even near to good. But try to enjoy. All CONSTRUCTIVE criticism welcome.

August comes from the Latin word augustus, meaning “consecrated” or “venerable,” which in turn is related to the Latin augur, meaning “consecrated by augury” or “auspicious.” In 8 B.C. the Roman Senate honored Augustus Caesar, the first Roman emperor, by changing the name of their month Sextilis to Augustus

August by nature, he strode the palace floors.

Revered by all, feared by most, yet sad beyond his strength.

Ruler of the known world but not of his own.

Troubled and tormented by fear and guilt.

About which he knew not either why or how.

His problematic mind anathematic to his own.

In dreams he saw only what he dreaded.

The gods of Rome were powerless to abate.

What power can come from him who is not there.

Sacrifices to your empty deities bring no healing.

Waxing moons supposedly bring spiritual hope,

Waning  again like unrequited love on a distant shore,

White sand running through your fingers like the days of life.

No hope was found, no pity lost on mortal man.

Jupiter, supreme ruler of the gods, Juno his queen,

“Surely I am a god, does not Rome worship me?”

“Woe to you Minerva and Neptune, fake deities of Rome”

“Venus and Mars, you are planets not gods like me.”

“Apollo, son of Jupiter, loose your arrow and slay your father,

Thought he does not exist, but then, nor you.”

And so he curses every useless god he knows in hope of finding peace.

But no, each non-existent deity curses him back in incredulity.

How dare he say we don’t endure, just because we ……………..

There is no god save one.

Save one,

Save one.

He died

He lives.

©joseph r mason 2020

Photo by Michael Giugliano on Pexels.com

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What if?

I don’t normally write rap, but this is my first attempt. I hope you like it.

If white was black and black was white,
If light was dark and dark was light,
How different the world would be.
Not only for you, but also for me.

But what if colour did not exist.
No such thing as a white racist.
If we were all the same,
Would that be such a shame?

What if, when we were girls and boys,
No guns, no dolls, just neutral toys.
Would we all grow up the same?
Would our life be rather lame?

What if we all lived in harmony?
There is no you, there is no me.
Would that be really tragic?
Or would it be, just magic?

©️ joseph r mason 2020

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Eugi’s Weekly Prompt “Magic” July 27, 2020