Random Poetry

From Reluctance .. by Robert Frost

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?

Summer Wine

And the balmy air of summer arrives again, bringing with it a feel of nostalgia - an acute yearning for the wonder years when life was much more free and easy, and all one had to do was sit or play under the warm sun.

Now one has worries, cares, not to be lightly brushed aside, but to be looked at rationally, and dealt with, according to one's capacities. I have never been very good at expressing feelings, specially on paper/screen , but I feel this is very definitely a part of growing up to be an adult.