The Season’s Play
He was holding her hands on the meadow
Wrapped with love and care
Over the golden dandelions
Dancing in the whisper of the air.
Gasped at the ring before her
Of golden commitment to bet.
Veiled with the perfect copper red sky
An “I do” in the spring sunset.
But her sailor had to go
For spring was done and over
With kisses and romance and goodbyes
Left with the vague hopes of forever.
It took her months of sleepless nights
Pained by the warmth of the season
By heart, by soul, by hope
She cried hard at the summer moon.
Then leaves were fading and falling
Colored the world in monotone
Months that she cried for her sailor
Months that she lived alone.
Yet, loneliness didn’t kill her
For hopes, promises fed her to freeze
In a constant vow of waiting
There she hoped at the autumn breeze.
Snow has started to paint the town
Of white, of cheers, of cold.
Now she felt helpless and gloomy
For no hand is there to hold.
At the bed she missed his warmth
His breath, his laugh, his cry
Time and loneliness pained her more
Under the silver winter sky.
Ice were now weeping off
Butterflies dancing on the meadow
Spring had set the world with hues
Melting loneliness and sorrow.
Off to the port, she came running
Hoping to see her sailor’s charm
Indeed, he arrived in front of her
With a lady beside him, and a baby in her arms.