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.