Twelve
You are:
Tree colors borne against despair
After the time of August light,
Fire in morning’s cold, crisp air;
Gentle moonlight in longest night,
While winds whisper on silent snow
And familiar sights wreathed in white;
Spring’s scents of renewed green glow
New leaves, new dreams, new verdure
As light and life once again grow;
The longest days, the sun mature,
Shade of my heart, ever so fair,
Love like the years, course ever sure.
© 2008 Sorn Skald
- This poem is in the Common Domain and may be
freely distributed, provided it remains unchanged
including copyright notice and this License -