Wisdom's Sting
oh there, the dappled meadows held
our dreams, though unassuming
love twined amidst the highland fells
like grasses thresh -
sweet saffron flesh
two callow hearts soft-blooming ...
we watched the dew roll off the morn
as brume rolls off the mountains
our moistened husks, so passion-born
those guileless thrills
flowed thru' the rills
toward wellsprings of love's fountains ...
sad August's moon we coaxed to rise
its blushing cheeks so swollen
to daub our eyes with youth's demise
and find in dreams -
amongst its beams
our chaste hearts, stained and stolen
we lived those moments for themselves
no hopes lost 'midst tomorrows
but found on hence's careworn shelves
that life's demands
had wet those sands
and swept them deep through sorrows ...
how could we tend those callow years
with souls naught but enthralling
or gaze through truth and tender tears
the Autumn skies -
their amber eyes
of dark-wrapped secrets, crawling ...
each leaf, one bright death, falling
while winter's breath was squalling
my foolish heart ...
recalling.
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