There'sjoy, Though Summer Weeps. Poem by Paul Brookes

The essence of beauty feeds heart, soul and mind,
it floats the boat across the sea of imagination
settling arch, pleasing and alluring both

eyes delight on roses that bloom bold and bright
petulant streams that tumble triumphant down craggy
boulder strewn eroded beds into tranquil pools
hills that rise green and brown tumbling one after another
strutting across the vision in varied succession.
the dry stone walls like veins connecting the man made with nature.

deep dark black lakes mirror the heavens,
enigmatic, hiding cold alluring sirens
beckoning us to swim in your too cold depths.
or crafty boggarts dwelling in the turgid bog,
will o the wisps as beautiful as they are dangerous,
to lure men to their deaths.

sitting watching a stag as he watched me
we, it seemed, had an understanding
I rose and we walked away from each other, wary,
but each us in a dignified way, respectful.

Sadly summer has not come
instead rain filled days have our been lot,
a veil of tears and introspection.
and yet there on the hills nature teems
making me glad to be alive,
even in these dreadful times the heather still blooms.