Pembroke – Autumn Summoner

Through the thick heat of summer, a small breeze is stirred.
A cold slice in the mind of a migrating bird.
Far off in the highland, a voice can be heard.
Leaves dancing on the whirl of the summoner’s word.

When oppression bears down with sweltering heat,
Resist like Matterhorn through timber lines retreat.
With sickle in hand and the wind at our feet,
We harvest the offering at Demeter’s seat.

Wear long sleeves in summer to summon the cold.
And watch the world die without growing old.
Lucent colors creep in like prophecies foretold.
Take pinnacle seats as the spectacles unfold.