fields of life -

to wend through golden grasses of my past with chill winds at my back from o'er the hill oh how I wish the glow of spring would last thus far behind me stands that boy, miscast while just a jester, much too bright and shrill to wend through golden grasses of my past the latter lad, thus pressed to love too fast so saved his heart to burnish, soft and still oh how I wish the glow of spring would last he stumbled into manhood, loves amassed with wisdom gained from tragedy and thrill to wend through golden grasses of my past encumbrances and burdens grew too vast while finding warmth in darkness and a pill oh how I wish the glow of spring would last so now I cross the fields of time, steadfast renewed with all the love one heart can will to wend through golden grasses of my past oh how I wish the glow of spring would last. ~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Brian's Choice 10, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor. ~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Your Best 2019-2020 Villanelle" Poetry Contest, William Kekaula, Judge & Sponsor.