He met her in spring, still tight budded
& curled,
And warmed her skin, until her petals
unfurled,
He slaked her thirst, with cool raindrops
& dew,
And waited, knowing, that her summer was
due.
He stroked her heart, into summer´s warm
heat,
And waltzed her into dancing, upon tiny
light feet,
He serenaded in songs, beneath opal cream
moon,
And knowing deep down, her autumn was due
soon.
He loved her in perfumes, of gold autumn´s
demise,
And he worshipped her body & soft
fathomless eyes,
He wept tears at her fading & her last coppered
days,
And knew, that with winter, she´d be well on
her way.
He held her icy small hand, deep in winter´s
cold snow,
And he whispered in winds, that he wished her
to know,
That he´d await her return, with arrival of
next spring,
And together again, they would dance & they´d
sing.
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