If it's Sunday, it must be story time

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Open Poetry #34

If it's Sunday, it must be story time

Honeybunch
Member Rara Avis

since 2001-12-29

Posts 7115
South Africa

0 posted 2005-01-30 01:21 AM

BETWEEN THE SEASONS

Once upon a time underneath another sun
nature wooed the heart of a lady long forlorn
and laid the gauntlet down, “Love me now or drown”
and so she opened up her eyes and let the water flow.

All her precious scenes in mind’s deep memory store
preserved and intact as they were that time before
lie covered and protected by layers of earth dust
too heavy to be blown away by forces of reality.

And she dreams again the feel of every memory
as tenderly and gently and with all humility
she drifts between the seasons like a lonely seed
uncertain where to plant her future footsteps down.

But time has made her age in the waiting all alone
remembering the song of a summer long since gone
and the way it was back then when tree talk bid her be
a woman in love with what she cannot see.

Oh, she sighs, and bemoans spirit goals unknown
or mind’s little fantasies grown out of all proportion
but hesitant is she to total up her sums
and bank the capital with no hope of earning interest.

With realities entwined like the tendrils of a vine
she bows and pleads relief from what she cannot see
but the feel of such so awesome there’s no hope of being free
and so that little seed and me … play checkers under trees!

Helen / 30 January 2005

Midnitesun