SUMMER CAULDRON

 

                        Life boiled

                        In a heat of stickiness.

                        But not a mould

                        That held us all together.

                        Another dawn breaks,

                        We are clearly not refreshed

                        Yet nature bursts its flowers,

                        A colour carpet

                        Covering sadness, loneliness

                        Which sweats its fear,

                        Yet always hopes for more.

                        Love and lust in all excess,

                        Recall the joy

                        Of fresh cold water

                        Trickling through the dust.

                        Children’s laughter in fountains

                        Must drown adult despair.

                        Then, when evening cools

                        Night’s moon still smiles.