‘The Quiet Man’

Dazzling sunshine radiates, across the morning sky, 
Fresh greens and colours dominate, a pleasure on the eye.
Mating birds sing joyfully, the Spring at last arrives,
The sound of children playing, the moments of their lives.
A gentle breeze is blowing, the smell of fresh cut grass, 
Memories of years gone by, and hope the time will last.
The quiet man sits all alone, no pleasure can he gain,
The smile reserved for others, he searches for in vain.


The golden beach is heated, by rays of searing sun,
Striped umbrellas fill the beach, the summer has begun.
Turquoise waves wash up to them, as children play with sand,
The pushchairs under shelter, mum’s there to lend a hand.
Calls of ‘ice-cream’ can be heard, by sellers on the shore,
The children are excited, the dads will go home poor.
The quiet man lays all alone, no pleasure can he gain,
The smile reserved for others, he searches for in vain.


Autumn winds swirl through the trees, across the woods and fields,
Golden browns and oranges, the summer colours yield.
Wrapped in coats bright scarves and hats, with cheeks pink blushed from cold,
Cries ring out across the parks, as dogs once more controlled.
Children play on swings and slides, and look to climb the trees,
The smell of leaves now mulching, stirs distant memories.
The quiet man walks all alone, no pleasure can he gain,
The smile reserved for others, he searches for in vain.


Crisp white snow is everywhere, and muffled is the sound,
As people gather for ‘the’ feast, no misery allowed.
Decorated homes will fill, with family friends and guests,
Children playing happily, parents in Sunday best.
Mammoth dinners are consumed, hats worn from crackers pulled,
Stories told of Christmas past, and tears misunderstood.
The quiet man weeps all alone, unable to maintain,
The strength to smile for others, submitting to the pain.

dcmaher
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