The seasons change shirts while we aren't looking on,
a blink in the dark and our summer is gone.
The green of our youth starts to shutter its light,
as laughter surrenders its warmth to the night.
a blink in the dark and our summer is gone.
The green of our youth starts to shutter its light,
as laughter surrenders its warmth to the night.
The autumn comes cold, spilling gold on the floor,
like memories left by the draft at the door.
The wind is a broom sweeping comfort away,
and grief shortens down the bright fuse of the day.
like memories left by the draft at the door.
The wind is a broom sweeping comfort away,
and grief shortens down the bright fuse of the day.
Then winter moves in like a heavy white sheet,
freezing the hope of the quieted street.
We huddle in silence, numbed by the chill,
waiting for something inside to stand still.
freezing the hope of the quieted street.
We huddle in silence, numbed by the chill,
waiting for something inside to stand still.
But deep in the frost, under layers of snow,
the patience of April is learning to grow.
The heart, like the soil, clears a space for the spring,
reminding the spirit how local birds sing.
the patience of April is learning to grow.
The heart, like the soil, clears a space for the spring,
reminding the spirit how local birds sing.
Dedicated to Lorraine. Happy Birthday
Written by Druidheart
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GoldenFjavier
Un poema increible