Reflective lining bears the passing years
of crinkles carved and worn to that of age
and from the mirrored galls a hearse appears
with thought to carry; when shall death upstage?

This day? When larks resound of warbling birds
as garden's glaze, the vernal blossom glows
amongst are playful kin of callow words
and yonder meadow green, my love in pose.  

Caressed by cherry blossoms, from a time
when youth we swayed beneath that ruby tree,
her amber curls would kiss verdure in prime
with lissom twirls that blessed my eyes to see.

When I shall drift away from worldly plush
and leave I shall, let not; in springtime lush.