The Season’s Play

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.

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