Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Summer's Land

Where does it start and where does it end?
Why do green tree's so much offend me where
Winter's hand could not? The pollen they
Drop causes me to flop upon the ground,
With great wheezing fits; so is spring to
Me, but a monstrous fee that does so
Enjoy to pick on me-- as a bully at school.
Yet I know that in the end all will be well,
Because no one keeps spring, no! Not winters
Hand, a raging war, no not even hell
With all it's armies hell bent could stop me
From admiring the beauteous promise now
Before mine eyes. For spring, though early yet,
Not fully matured, as it blossoms and
Blooms in the early morning of time gone
Mad, doth hold for me the hidden key to
All life itself, shall show to me the door
By which I shall enter in, to fair
Summer's land. There shall all be well in a
Fair summer light; for I cannot know the
Warmth of spring which does so offend mine eyes.
Like the many two footed lovers that
Do without restraint love their lives away,
So is Spring early spent, an opening fray.
I must be patient, and by the bright day
Keep myself until the end of spring's sight.
But by summer's gate, spring's hidden key, shall
I enter in and so win my lover's
Fee; a kiss. Thus, though my life is now spent
A quarter, a parcel of mine age gone,
And youth all but spent, I shall regain my
Heart and soul in summer's eyes. For walking
From the door, that door that is young youthful
Revelries, I see her now, yea high, now
In the prime of her beauty; holding strong
For her lover's fee. Just like me. Oh, to
Walk through fields of barley and hay without
The touch of blight, no pain in my sight. Ah,
So much bliss does this, her sight, give to me.
To smell the dry crisp air that descends on
My lover and I, all as good as some
Tale told long ago; for princes and brides
That did live in such circumstance were not
Mere figments of imagination so
Long as they had men to believe in them.
Now for it. Now to conquer my youth and
So win the day. Now for it! To give her
My prime, if only to hear her say those
Words I've heard a thousand times in fairy
Tales untold. Sadly impatient lovers
All make bold requests, and lying deceit
Will drop from the lips of mammon's greed. So
Now do I forgo mammon's own version,
And make bold with full knowledge who I am
So as to recant worldly treasures that
Would separate me from my lover's fee.
She smiles at me, a look that contains
Spring's youth mixed with summer's passion, a
Passion that knows no limits, does not stay
Within the boundaries of either spring
Or summer's rays, but hopes in the strength of
Our bond, this union, this gaze so strong, that
Together, hand in hand, we shall last the
Thirst of Autumn; that we might do so
Would be a great success that most fail at.
So we look forward to the setting of
The sun in all it's majesty. I look
Yonder and see the sky, already pale
With the dry spell brought about by the hard
Rules imposed on nature's mantle. And by
Such sight I see further still through winter
And all it implies for our love, our lives.
Then looking down I see already that
The snow has set upon the ground; our hands,
Still entwined, have not found pain in the cold.
What's more I find that I am old in her
Eyes, and that she too bears a frail frame.
I smile, for though I despise ideas
That suggest what must come to pass I do
Sing, for our love that came in late summer
Did also last until our years were spent.
And we did so revel in each other
That time's hand touched us not inside our hearts,
It may have crippled us with age, but did
Not take away our better parts. So now
I step in further still, another step.
She steps in too, close to me, so we've kept
Each other until the day we died. Though
We know not where we are going, or what
We are to do, we started somewhere, and
Ended where we stand. Now it is time for you
To take your own journey through summer's land.

Summer's Land, (C) Luke Bennette, March 2012

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