Time's Charade
The maple trees red tinge sounds the alarm
Begins a blushing curtsy, bowing slow
For Autumn’s but a fleeting warmth’s farewell
The heat of passions peak prepared to go
Weep not as lover’s petals slowly fall
For lust was never meant to linger long
Nor lingering somehow sustain the bees
Or from a frozen beak coax loving’s song
Yet in their passing beauty waves her wand
Exposing in their season life’s parade
The guessing game of Winter, Summer, Fall
Unfolding in the game of Time’s charade
So, let us not weep for the sun and moon
But marvel at the Butterflies cocoon
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