Nothing compares to this spring time love,
Except for one single thing,
The love we'll have in summer.

Yet, even better than that,
The love we'll hold in fall,
Golden and aged like the leaves of oak trees.

But no thing could be greater,
Than the love we'll hold come next winter,
Sleeping in, your warmth by my side.

Room temp black tea,
Jingling house keys,
Little whispers of morning trees.

Quaint feeling of tranquility,
Walking among the preserved fall leaves,
A small nip of chill in the breeze.

Beneath the gulmohar tree
In flamboyant love
A tale of our desires
Coloring each other
A bright vermillion
Under his crimson spread
Shaded in blissful haven.

Reaching for his branches
Clasping, holding
Climbing, swinging
Chasing, laughing
Under a bright shower of scarlet petals
Of hearts and heat, of love and life
Blooms of a scorching Indian summer.

In flames, his vibrant burning crown
His canopy, flaunting festive tangerine blossoms
Crinkled teasing petals
One upright
Of quaint innocence in white
Splashed with  feisty passion's red
Celebrating and anticipating
In celebration of us, our love
Anticipating rain..
As his branches reach high for promising dark clouds.

Serenading with the music of the monsoons
Moist leaves of the gulmohar glisten
With wind and water, in gentle rhythm
Raindrops nestle for a moment
Before sliding, slipping
On damp, satiated earth
Strewn bright with scattered orange petals
Of the gulmohar
Drenched and soaked like us.

The palm trees
of the Moonlight
Are sweetly aspiring and tall
In the way they long like lovers
To Caress the Rose Gold of the Moon

Reynaldo Casison

There she laid down her wearied head
To rest one final time under the shade
‘O the wiry willow

Beneath, her thoughts spun webs of distant times past
Where honeysuckle wrapped tendrils round
The rugged walnut

Smells of various mountain flowers after a fresh rain
Accompanied the familiar tune of birds singing
An ode to the swaying oaks  

A soft breeze warmed the chill of biting winters cold
Sending shivers down her frail frame
Skeletal like the barren birch

She blinked in time to barking angry squirrels
Displeased with the lack of fruit
Left by the poor pawpaw  

Vision, already blurred by cataract, began to fade
As the mountain consumed the setting sun
The light filtered by forlorn firs

It was time.  

Long had she waited to join those that had gone before
Patient to be reunited with her love long lost
During the spring of blooming dogwood

Distant, she could see him, strong and proud
With effort she reached out to her beloved
A mighty hickory  

Exhaling, she breathed her last.

After her life, Diana, goddess of the forest
Let grow a grove of various mountain trees
Surrounding a single rhododendron  

Her life, a monument to the nature she loved.

If you'll come with me,
I can bring you to the sea,
Show you the waves as they dance to the sand,
Wander through the dunes,
Winding like the winds in beach birch branches,
We can live like they do on TV,
Swear our hearts to each other,
Like I got down on my one knee.

Who's knocking at my window?
I hear you while I sleep!
Who dare disturb my own slumber!
Oh, it's only the birds,
The wind and the bare trees.
Still, I resent my bed,
The world wakes us for a reason.

I don't mind meandering,
But I prefer it with you.
For the river doesn't travel alone,
It's swept up in the beauty of the trees,
Or the glassy grains of the sand.
Whether our path is wavy and wanders,
Or straight to the point.
I will find a certain joy,
In each meandering moment I share with you.