When The Month Of March Comes Poem by Gert Strydom

When the month of March comes I am astounded
by the summer that is still lingering,
the sparkle, colour and fragrance of flower upon flower,
the fine splendour

of every cup that still opens for the sun,
birds that frisk about in the branches
with days keeping the intensity of summer
while I perceive the first signs of autumn

in the colours of leave upon leave
that starts to fall one by one
and summer is almost finished
while thunder still reports in the late afternoons

with rain pouring down
and one by one the days of summer are curtailed.