Summer's End

The August sun shines high above the trees,
While bees for nectar search the warming breeze.
The flowers fade, dark green's the tint of leaves
Awhiles this scene, the grey-cloaked dove soft grieves.

The trees and leaves hear not its mournful note
For earless do they grow, bedecked in barken coat.
The bees hear not the call, for they but live
Unto their hive their each-sworn lives to give.

And as the autumn comes, these fade away;
The leaves and bees approach their final day.
But prayers remain within the grey dove's heart
That one day, far away, new spring will start.