#meloncoly
In the quiet green of a sunlit vine,
Where dewdrops rest and shadows twine,
Lies a melon round, with a heavy sigh,
In fields where days drift idly by.
Soft and sweet, its flesh inside,
A tender heart it tries to hide,
Yet weighed with seeds of fleeting cheer,
Its sweetness tinged with hints of fear.
It’s summer’s child with autumn’s gaze,
Golden light in shorter days,
Both ripe and raw, it knows too well
The taste of joy on the edge of farewell.
And as the fields turn bare and cold,
The melon dreams of days of old,
Of laughter, warmth, and skies so high—
A sweetness meant to say goodbye.
Oct 30, 2024
Oct 30, 2024 at 8:05 PM UTC
Early to bed late to rise
was the man behind in times.
He always slept but he always woke
he was rested well and woken slow.
Early to bed late to rise with heavy eyes heavy like lead.
Early to bed and late to rise, his life was led and then he died.
Dec 9, 2020
Dec 9, 2020 at 7:27 PM UTC