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So proud and bright are the leafs of Spring, glist'ning.
I hear the twitter of tiny birds hiding.
Fuchsia flowers, from the trees, gently falling.
Here we are, on a Summer morning, basking;
I stare, in worship, at the sun—beseeching.
Grandfather admires the redness of flowers.
The neighborhood's like a pastiche that glitters!
Lingering in the air: whir of lawnmowers.
I ask myself what, in life, really matters.
Summer breeze—clean and fresh—I inhale, I breathe,
Trying hard to conceal my woes underneath.
Even though the paths you take I can't enwreathe,
To me, Demure, your love and life may you bequeath.
Spring has fin'lly faded; Summer is looming.
Fairies, foliage, and you—in my heart, dancing.
About the Author: aLfie vera mella, otherwise eLf, is a nurse in profession and a literatus in avocation. Read more about him on http://www.elf-ideas.blogspot.com.
Source: www.isnare.com |
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