When one arrives in August then it appears the summer is fading

But that is far from the truth as August is often a kind month

As are its beautiful sisters September and October

This summer has in areas been like a curates child

Good in parts but never to be trusted for more than a day

We have spent many hours on the beach and in the sea

And have travelled widely in this garden of delights

I would have liked to have appeared overseas

But the ghosts of the pestilence past still haunts us

Yet the perfumes and colours of these cherished fields

Have rewarded me without toll and for that I am eternally grateful