To Spring

Once upon a time, there was an earth;
and on the earth, there was a land;
and in the land, there was a river;
and by the river, there stood a house.

A pair of lovebirds nested in the willow
that watched over a garden of tulips,
where often two lovers would promenade,
in his black silk vest and her embroidered blouse.

They strolled along that little road,
through the sweet scent of morning mud,
where children roamed among the flowers
that were not painted by lead and blood.

By the fireplace he played his guitar,
who rose out of the fabled rosewood,
when forests had not built hills of tar,
when the peaceful skies we did not intrude.

One day that willow too perished in flames,
where the river passed lay shattered frames;
one day our little summit may also flood,
summer and winter war over autumn’s dust. 

My child, if you have seen the colours of spring,
you would forsake all for you may to her cling;
alas only amidst these corpses are we to brood
over none but legends of our silent prelude.

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Published in: on 02/06/2018 at 10:34 PM  Leave a Comment  

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