Seasons of Love

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Seasons of Love


He did not come cloaked in fresh spring lover's lust

Nor in a summer sky-lit shower of lunar stardust.

And with autumn's pallet of bronze radiant rust,

He painted purity with a winter's wet, white brush.

I found kindness there beneath the rousing rush

Of seasons falling, pouring down upon us.

Oh, clean washed heart, how sweet the muse

That teases thoughts and love reproves.

You are all seasons, my reasoned rhyme,

Cherished with tenderness throughout time.

And through each season of smitten smiles,

I pray one more day of my desperate denial.   


~ P.S. Colley

    c.  Dec. 2024 

Cries of the Unheard


Comments

  1. PS ColleyApril 12, 2025 at 3:42 PM

    One of my favorite paintings is Spring, by Vincent Van Gogh.

    ReplyDelete

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