bichoose (bichoose) wrote,

Wednesday 8th September 2010.

It..has arrived the most dreaded day of the year.
Summer has left,
 as it came suddenly without warning, so too it has gone vanishing,
leaving behind a raft of if only, perhaps tomorrow then ideals plans, a showering in words so simple to form in my mind,quickly fly torn to think on some other reasoning as why not too, always springs from dark corner,perfected in youth now haunting the mature mind in full some bubbles so thick skinned they are hard to pop.
This morning i walked to work in the darkness,tonight i walked home in what seemed very much the same darkness i set out to earn my pocket of copper coins hours earlier.
The art for myself now is to fight off the gloom captured in melancholy madness,to somehow skirt around the recruiting posters of the forlorn hope regiment, whom trawls recruits this time of year. Usually they find me, somehow their bullets of rapid declining temperatures  ice  the mind into surrendering warm thoughts captured from blooming summer giant sunflowers, i have seen on my travels this past summer.There simply have not been the multitude to carry such warmth through the coming winter. This particular summer past has seen a vast decline in planted sunflowers across the gardens i pass through, perhaps the novelty of those yellow waving beasts has wilted from the gardeners imagination.
Well time for bed and to begin the art placing winters armour around my mind,no finer place than the land of dreams to begin such a journey through the next nine months.
As my old friend Hugh would say HA....

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