Where has my spring gone?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: June 02, 2018

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Submitted: June 02, 2018

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Where has my spring gone?

Where has my Spring gone, oh beautiful Spring!

I sit grieved at its passing: sated full, with the darkest of loss.

Gone it's subtle, sweet essence: fresh pressings, of our season's first sap.

Summer now floods through Spring's vacuum, at every heading, each point of compasses' round.

Till bared eyes, scorched to burning, cool shadows still must seek, and sought, still must be found.

Though with doubtless brilliance Summer gleams, has, arguably, myriad beauties, incomparable in span.

Yet still does pull, at Tolerances' borders: intemperate scolds, and with shine excessive, half blind leaves when observed.

Thus, in introspection now I'm faced, to the shadows of my heart, and mourning,

and with weeping full, yet a fool I feel, at the thought of each tear falling.

This Summer shines it's bleaching light, blistered heat, till torn I am, in direction lost, am blinded.

No navigator's line, to catch the eye, to plot a course, that spans the shape of day.

But from these sorrows, broad and deep, rent I must, else all be lost to this Summer's days.

So in tentative state, shall make ambling passage, till this Summers' final passing, passes away.

Till this Summers', final passing, passes away.


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