Monday, August 31, 2009

With A Scythe Time Harvests
this Summer I came to know
a girl who'd leave me behind
swift fallen in love; fortuitous,
the way strange context designs

made in delicate words our romance
was much the same as a rhyme
that at the scythe would show
we'd always have rhythm but not time

and though so many smiles
and good times we surely kept
it wasn't long before a clawing
edged and tears were wept

what set us apart was a story;
brought us eventually undone
that left set forever locked in
lover's eyes at a rising sun

when ever is a love done?
The moment always escapes me
though I know the hazy feeling
that in its fading betrays me

I pause so often throughout
my day spending costly wonder
at what would've become had our
love been let off tether to wander

she stays in the moon's stray light
keeping on from the sun's chase
in the Autumn's leaves that fall;
pretty colours her love's warm trace

then left in the vestige I best
sit beside 'cause turning from's hard
yes, the scent pressed to my memory
stains well all now with the past

at least in our last moment
she intimately knew my heart
and coming apart I dared not turn

to the very last step that she'd depart

now the future entices, beckoning
with hope it'll lead back to the start
and it's where I can't help but cast
all my dreams for another harvest's ask

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other people waiting

we're not strangers anymore