Sum of All Seasons
The sum of all seasons is high,
the day of reckoning is nigh,
there are those that would deny,
know not the when, nor the why.
The run of all reasons is wry,
piled as high as the perennial sky,
but reasons alone won't comply,
when serendipity seasons fly by.
We've come to the summit of sum,
and have got all hurt on the run,
but we don't know how to have fun,
and keep feeding the fat of the gun.
For each and every one in the sun,
has a season to bask in the won,
a time for all acrimony to be done,
and for all to enjoy the hard-won.
All seasons will come to an end,
all things will be renewed again,
as the egg leaves the nest of the hen,
traveling to who knows when.
Image © Travis Shpeley
Rainy Day Explorer
When humanity adds up all that
it has learned, what has it come to?
eMail Me
More Poems
My Place
Copyright 2015 © Ronald W. Hull
3/5/15
It's in the Water and Other Stories
American Mole: The Vespers
Verge of Apoclypse Tales