Sunshine Might Be Coming By

  
Sunshine Might Be Coming By

    

The skies are gray, with drizzling rain.

The cold that’s left will come again.

And that’s the bane of northern climes

That all must bear – though some complain.

Yet one, who lives in tropic lands

With palm-trees tall and coral sands,

Of summer’s sweltering heat complains

And cooler temperatures demands.

I wonder, whether there’s a clime

That’s cool enough in wintertime

And pleasant still in summers too.

So wondering, I might end my rhyme.

But I have learned there’s such a place

That’s suited to the human race,

Where seasons all are temperate –

As climates go, a shining ace.

I sometimes, in my dreams, ascend

To where it seems that spring won’t end,

Where in December flowers bloom,

On which the hummingbirds depend.

But that is there and I am here,

With drizzling rain – but spirit sere,

With winter’s cold about to surge,

And springtime’s blooming far from near.

So I can either sit and mope

Or with the gray and drizzling cope –

Of season’s cruelties complain

Or shrug – and for some sunshine hope.

On venturing in the rain, I spy

A patch of blue in the cloudy sky.

And so I smile.  I’ve learned to flow –

And sunshine might be coming by.

2013 December 23^rd, Mon. 
Brooklyn, New York