Intersect

The season tries a different road.

Forked.

Which way to wander?

Am I swayed unto the summer,

Coerced there by the fall?

 

Vanilla picket fence runs ’round where

daisy blooms paint verdant meadow

stirred them ‘neath a southern breeze blows fickle,

pokes and pelts a restless heart.

 

I pray of thee
invite me pause

there rest aside you

whilst I dwell in thine embrace,

try snare each moment ‘ere it flees

where hearts like rustling rivers whisper,

their gentle spring come-hithers beckon.

 

Let them not be lost unto the night

there where him of her his silence pleas,

“Give thine hand to soothe mine sorrow,

rub me clear of all regrets and faded recollects,

unlike youth long gone to live in yesterday?”

 

Tangled tether ties us to our hopes,

new season sows them, bloom today tomorrow’s seeds

in fertile bed where guiding light assures

No need no more to wander with our youth.

 

            ~ ~ ~

7 Replies to “Intersect”

  1. nice…there is a cool romanticism within your piece….that last stanza really brings a nice closure to this one as well….so much in the change of season…hope for what is to come…and i like the nod to turning from our youth as well….maybe then in not just sowing seed but tending the garden…

  2. Powerful. The snow falls outside my window adding atmosphere to this very fine piece of writing, punctuating the season that I am in with an exclamation mark.

    Cheers,

    Mark Butkus

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