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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Summer’s End

Women have eyes like this
before they’re old.
Bright with a shimmer in them.
Like apples, fruity and sweet.
Everything smells good
when summer is going.
Like juice spilled over.

Romance on the make.
A last hurrah
with everything hanging over,
hanging out with style.
When a woman is a girl again.
Ripe, with the wisdom
of the world inside her.

They are never more beautiful
than now.
Conflagration with roses
blushing on the cheeks.
Later in boxes hidden in a corner,
rafters sounding of the past,
a woman still beautiful at heart,
reads the coming,
that came after,
summer at the end.

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