For the Write Sixteen Beautiful Lines Poetry Contest of Constance La France
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"Month by month, season by season, love will either come and go, or love will maybe somehow grow." - quote by author In spring, love sauntered in. I still recall your eyes like azure skies, enchanting me. Along a country lane we strolled, hand in hand; then kissed beneath a budding willow tree. In summertime, we lay on a beach til night had swallowed sun and showed us new delight - bright diamonds shining down on just us two as we shared dreams, giddy in the moonlight. In autumn, days grew crisp, and even though October’s leaves were such a brilliant hue, your eyes had lost their luster. Nights less warm foreshadowed that I’d soon be losing you. In winter, I was standing all alone as flurries from the frigid air touched my face. Though pretty and pearlescent was the snow, I was yearning only for your embrace.
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