The wind rifles my pages,
But I’d stay out here for ages…
The sunlight mild
And leaves whipping wild,
Are stuff of artists and sages!
–
Men and women add
Layers–not so bad…
Gusts turn cold
Making old,
People miss what they had.
–
Seasons keep turning around,
Soon snow and cold abound…
Snow flakes flying
Over seagulls crying,
For scraps along the ground!
–
–Jonathan Caswell
By the Mighty Mumford 