The End of Summer.

When illness stole the Summer.

I was distracted when it came in, what with moving house.

When Easter’s sun puddled chocolate; it seeped through the foil.

Life exhausted my bones, each sinew ached for rest, but on I’d toil.

Pleased to be in this lovely space where history would join with our taste, we’d make a home.

He’d gazed a face like this before. His eyes focused, periwinkle blue. That doctor, one Summers day … he knew.

When sun and storms made gardens green,The well was clear and ducks shared our stream. I missed those days and slept it seems; through Summer,

The missed paddles and golden dreams.

That summer will be remembered … or not, as the one, I slept away.

The summer of misty minds and forgotten days that was, the end Of Summer for me.

Now Autumn calls, I hope not to miss the golden leaves or the morning mists.

A bike to peddle the flab away on crisp voluptuous days like today.

I hope you enjoyed my freeform write, leave a word, I hope you might.

21 thoughts on “The End of Summer.

  1. It’s taken me a while to find the right words for this, and I’m afraid I’m still failing miserably. This was everything: hope, positivity, yearning, fear, sadness. You struck a lovely balance between realism and positivity that didn’t feel forced or superficial. I love how you combine words. My particular favorite was “crisp voluptuousness”. Its still 90 here in Texas, so I’m waiting eagerly for that feeling as well.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. What a super comment, thank you for reading. Ninety does barely compute with normal average temperatures in the UK. My words may be easier to comprehend if you read my posts … ‘genetically challenged’ and/or “A conversation with my Grandson”
      For a writer who rarely scribbles of herself or her situation, I gave in and penned three posts. Though I hope I pulled off tongue in cheek with the other two. Regardless of reading those, Thank you for the lovely response. Happy Autumn. X

      Liked by 1 person

  2. You have a wonderful turn of phrase and perfect metre in your writing. You forge something utterly beautiful from what must have been a difficult time. So much to love about this but “When Easter’s sun puddled chocolate; it seeped through the foil” is perfect. It evokes far more than it actually says – that optimism, freshness and anticipation of early spring sunshine – made all the more poignant by the feeling of loss when that opportunity was not fully realised. While writing about your personal situation, you succeed in capturing (perfectly), a universal feeling. I’m never ready for the end of summer, though like you, I love the Autumn, perhaps even more. Nothing beats that first warmth of early spring though. The great thing is, it comes round every year. Thank you for a very inspiring read. The lyricism of your writing inspires me to try harder.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Your words spur me on. I rerely write about myselfnd I maybe shan’t again but who is ever ready to lose great swathes of time, and endure days upon days of brain fog where you just can’t read write or speak with any clarity. But I am having treatment that slowly will get me much better and i write in the good moments. Thank you your words make the struggle worth while.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. I was told by a published author who blogs, ‘always leave a question or aninvite so visitors have a invitation to connect and they will then become friends and followers.’ Thank you friend. 😇

      Liked by 1 person

  3. TBH I don’t think you missed very much, I’m still waiting for it to come good! There were beautiful warm individual days but no consistency. I think Summer underperformed and I’ll be docking some ponts from its overall score. I think Autumn jumped the gun too, so it may have to go before the jury 🤔
    Your technical and artistic performance, on the other hand, get top marks and a bouquet of flowers 😊💐

    Liked by 1 person

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