Youth blooms
Blossoming spring,
until the gloom
when petal takes wing,

then, slow as snail emerging,
softest passion builds, surging,
head of vernal bud maturing,
zest of life in drupe enduring

But when the fruit ripen
it's time to pick 'em,
when senses heighten
work with them

for it won't be long 'fore they're gone
'fore tree's bereft o' youth's liaison
Before the fruit drop from the tree
before the boat's swept out to sea
before the dew that's sparkling now
becomes sweet memory as wedding vow
before the earth collects it's due
before it whispers, 'it's time for you'.