The Four Seasons Chapter Eleven ~ Grace ~ High Summer
It is high summer, and with an autumnal feel, Grace and Autumn working together in harmony. Winter, as ever, barges in, and is dealt with swiftly by them, but also with the assistance of their brother the Great North Wind …
Grace ~ High Summer
Part XII
Summer over the Southern Shires
Grace delights to warm
the hearts of all
who bask in her thrall.
Long garments, white lace
grace the Gardens of Montpellier,
beneath the great and high trees
standing now two centuries.
Band-stand full
but the delinquents,
drunks and addictos’ domain
of an earlier age,
the Eighties, long gone
A full band again
beneath the conductor’s baton.
Deck-chair rows for hire
to semicircular perfection
no order by securities,
this is the elegance of
Regency Cheltenham.
The joys of High Summer,
basking,
on this very pleasant August Bank Holiday,
ice creams
take-aways
for those who desire an earlier Age
the tray English Breakfast Tea
finest bone china,
as befits a garden
in Regency England
Basking, we gaze on hallowed tennis courts
Cheltenham’s pride
the tell-tale gently shaded green,
and wisps of wonderment
at approaching Wimbledon.
*
An August Chill.
A haunting Call.
I shiver as I feel the draught
and see the coldness
in that blue pink-grey tinge
that hangs in the Skies
leaning down to touch
the pastures and moorlands
of North West England.
*
North again,
Cheltenham now distant,
a memory the length of
three motorways
or, on occasion, as the mood befits me,
Lime Street Platform 12
changing at Birmingham New Street
a dash along the longest platform
up the stairs
run, run, quick, run
it’s Platform 11 I want
‘down the other end mate
you’d better hurry, leaves
in ninety seconds
Still no escalator
Rush of people exiting
like walking into incoming tide
Adopt their aggression
Push, shove, hit aside
The Cardiff train seals me in
so fast I wonder whether
I’m caught in the doors!
Phew!
Next week, I’m using the damned car!
Sod this for a lark!
*
A week on,
soon the first leaves
will race pedestrians
along the boulevards
of Pittville Park.
A stormy sky
An inflamed horizon
A fiery Sun
A literal ball of flame
rarely seen o’er England
indeed, any part of these
British Isles.
*
Ha-Ha!
I approach again!
Autumn laughs and giggles,
Grace rolls her eyes
with love and affection …
I will have my fancy free
as Autumn graces once again
pavements and alleys
park tunnels and walk-ways
with her skirts
warming the beech huts
along Kent’s Coast
all the way to Deal.
But Grace, mark my words
my time approaches fast!
Grace! Summer is but for a time
But I, Winter, linger longer
than all of you
and so can
bide my time.
Even our brothers the Four Winds know this
as indeed do the Panther
the Great Bear
the Faun and the Great Moose
The Elements know this
Nature knows this
Look!
August it may be
But see!
Christmas displays herself
already in High Street stores
up and down this
very disunited kingdom!
In silent union reflecting on Winter’s
brash, heartless, uninvited warning,
quietly warming the ground and air
Grace and Autumn
around their troublesome sister
move with warmth
removing her foundation
turning her nails into quick lime and slime
Quietly, Grace calls across the Universe
to their brother the Great North Wind
and in meteoric fashion
Winter is ejected to await her appointed hour
Oh Winter, Sister! Why must you always make this scene … …? It is so tiresome!
Summer resplendant, Grace confides with Autumn and their brother the Great North Wind
Autumn, warm and friendly, delighting everyone with calmer balmier days
The Great North Wind sweeps through the heavens gracefully, yet as a meteor, and carries his sister Winter back … Come, Winter, you must await the Appointed Time … For let us not forget that when He spoke even the winds and the waves obeyed Him and they were sore afraid… We cannot gainsay Him
8-10 March 2021
All Rights Reserved
© Kenneth Thomas Webb 2022
Chapter Twelve Week commencing Monday, March 29, 2021
Ken Webb is a writer and proofreader. His website, kennwebb.com, showcases his work as a writer, blogger and podcaster, resting on his successive careers as a police officer, progressing to a junior lawyer in succession and trusts as a Fellow of the Institute of Legal Executives, a retired officer with the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, and latterly, for three years, the owner and editor of two lifestyle magazines in Liverpool.
He also just handed over a successful two year chairmanship in Gloucestershire with Cheltenham Regency Probus.
Pandemic aside, he spends his time equally between his city, Liverpool, and the county of his birth, Gloucestershire.
In this fast-paced present age, proof-reading is essential. And this skill also occasionally leads to copy-editing writers’ manuscripts for submission to publishers and also student and post graduate dissertations.
