When Summer Dies, a Poem

In looking for notes on a book I had drafted, I found a book of poetry written by my great grandmother and typed by my grandmother. Hope you enjoy. This was written by Janet Wickett.

When Summer Dies

When summer dies, it leaves me drear,
On fading flowers I shed a tear.
A feeling I cannot define,
Haunts me and my spirit pines.

When summer dies, abject am I,
Clouds of gray obscure the sky.
The leaves that fly across the plain,
Mould and return to earth again.

As though bereaved as a leafless tree,
Would that I were a tree, all winter wait in apathy,
Content to sleep the winter end,
Till spring echoes gently with a song.


  1. How wonderful Carolyn. Such a treasure to find. You obviously come from a long line of talented writers. Beautiful poem. Very powerful.

    1. I am unbelievably touched by this find, and the timing (in my life) impeccable. Thank you, Ashley.

  2. Oh, Carolyn, this is beautiful!

    1. Isn't it? So blessed with her poetry and can't wait to share it with the world.

      Thank you.


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