Today the rhyme eludes my mind
and autumn sunshine fails to cheer;
leaves glow gold but I am blind;
submerged in murky thoughts and fears.
Sweet birds sing tunes to humankind,
but traffic clatter fills my ears;
mild reason is so hard to find
through bleary fog of bottled tears.
I wash my face and blot my eyes
to lift the mist that shrouds my soul,
then sit and watch the world, and try
to find a worthwhile, winning goal.
The shimmering trees and whimsy sky
soon lead me from that deadened hole;
with fresh-sprung hope I question why
I loosed my grip on self control.
©Jane Paterson Basil