The Long Sleep

The end of Summer, and the subtleties of Autumn have just started to tease at the edges of the light. Darkness slowly reclaims daylight and the trees, as if to mock the dying embers of the summer, turn to shades of Claret Amber and Gold.

Cool green robes are removed and the cold fingers begin to reach out through the folds. Nothing will die forever - though it seems an eternity till the sprightly cry of the New Born is heard in the air.

I wish to revisit the peeling laughter, the dizzying mirth and the soporific calm of a Summer evening, but I know I can't - at least for a while.

I will have to embrace my friend Morpheus 'till Bacchus befriends me again.