What of spring?
That it brings fire to the hearts of men
Is it the stars in the sky
Or
The songs of birds courting
Returning Persephone freshly in mourning
I've hidden alone in my cave
Far from spring time and still
I'm a fool for the lady's inuring
Slack from my chest
This marionette of heart strings
Played with in passing
No tuppence given for time or trouble
Worn out in that way only free things do
Salt of the earth this Patina entombs
A heart that was meant to be given to you
Yet this poem was meant for the spring time
It's true, she will miss it I'm sure
But you got it too
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
What of spring?
That it brings fire to the hearts of men
Is it the stars in the sky
Or
The songs of birds courting
Returning Persephone freshly in mourning
I've hidden alone in my cave
Far from spring time and still
I'm a fool for the lady's inuring
Slack from my chest
This marionette of heart strings
Played with in passing
No tuppence given for time or trouble
Worn out in that way only free things do
Salt of the earth this Patina entombs
A heart that was meant to be given to you
Yet this poem was meant for the spring time
It's true, she will miss it I'm sure
But you got it too
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