Indian Summer

Indian Summer The poppy said "No", The nasturtiums said "Wait" The seedlings were jumping at the gate; "We have to get through Winter first," The old oak spoke, and everyone burst. The pansies nodded in assent, With a great deal of sentiment. He looked down sadly at his girth, Smiling wryly with perfect mirth; "Ten more years is all I am worth". He glanced at the herbs tenderly wilting And spoke as though his heart were melting "We have to be patient and wait for Spring, And there's the catch, it's a learning thing". "I won't make promises I can't keep And we all know Winter will put us to sleep". Summer will rise again, in all it's glory, And that for now, is the end of my story.