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.
~ ~ ~
“Tangled tether ties us to our hopes…”; this line, especially, spoke to me here. lovely, fertile piece.
There is always tomorrow…
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…
Great imagery at play, and don’t dwell all day, never get anything done, of course it’s nicer when there is sun.
Sweet and pretty images. And a wonderful closing. Ah…but I like to wander…despite the fact that youth’s long long gone.
Oh, Jeff, i love your word-play here. Such strong music and message in your words.
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