Each story has a girl
Locked in the lively circle
Rolling in the Spring of youth
And as the year, the single year
Is bordered by Winter and Falls
Through the Seasons
Spring, Summer, Autumn,
To settle, umber and rouge,
Into the icy night
Before the crisp landing of feather’s touch
Snow Drops and a Summer’s Rose
Are, by time weathered mind, remembered
They, like the purest of Diamonds
Adorn that briefest Day
So here shall I stay
Amidst those thorny bodies
And Apple Blossom Skies
Waiting to be remembered
By that girl next Spring