The Season
The Season
Autumn Green, caught my eye, and I fell
- love for all seasons I thought existed within –
only to discover, as time passed us by
there was – it seemed – to be only one season,
the season that comes to life, upon the heels of deaths decay.
Autumn Green, turns to icy cold, the coolness of
Winter’s, domain and her chilling grip upon this plain,
the plain of forlorn love – love that could take one above
– all – of mans desire and love for this one Season,
that pretends all – with alleged logic and reason.
Spring, Summer and Fall, but hollow word.
Winter, the only heart beat that can be heard
- by these ears – beating from her beautiful chest.
Life – it seems – she can give to the rest.
B. J. “A” 2
September 21st 2008
Copyright © William J. Jr. Atfield | Year Posted 2013
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