The sun’s deep gold dwells in a sky not blue
Whle black tree branches cross against pale cream
There is no pink or coral or red hue
No warmth to give its strength to summer dreams.
Even as I write the sun dips low
A silence full and round creates new night
The tenor of the day leaves afterglow
And love surrounds all even without light
Farewell this day on which we voted thrice
As Peter lied before the cocks did crow
And as the world evokes the murdered Christ
To his mercy I would likely go.
The backcloth of fair nature beauty shows
Yet on the stage much cruelty is bestowed
W
How my heart speaks 