This Is September

White fluffy clouds swim serenely across azure skies
While butterflies float so gently in the pleasant air,
And so the season has come again to quietly repair
At least some of the broken pieces best left unspoken;
Gentle breeze and honey bees send me to my knees
In prayer this man will spare no effort to beware
Of the nefarious snares he has so often caught himself
In seasons gone by, withdrawn into his personal past
Where only the memories last as bright sun shines
On this new day in September, offering a new way
If only he will stay the course with determined force
With no remorse . . . only looking upward ‘n forward
As Lady Autumn wraps her gentle arms round about
In the stout reminder that all dies only to live again
In the birth-Spring of new life with untold promises,
But for now . . . for now I spy golden leaves and heave
An assuaged sigh of relief that another Summer of hell
Has rung his final bell, casting his last devilish spell,
And now goes the way of all seasons all year round,
And so, too, with this welcome change I am bound
To change as well . . . am I not? This is September . . .

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