Spring should not be time for goodbyes
Trees budding. Forsythia blooms.
A harbinger of Spring--
Robins boasting on the lawn
Pecking, preening, singing their song of Winter past
The Song of Hope
No, Spring should not be for Goodbyes.
In Summer, with the grit of sand
Almost a comfort between our toes
The clack of cobbles on an empty stretch of beach
Singing the Song of Sirens
Of love deeper than the Sea
No, Summer should not be for Goodbyes.
Autumn with it's Indian Summer
Laughing warm upon our faces
The bright Harvest Moon
Shines as perfect kisses are given
Moonlight caresses and beckons us to love
No, Autumn should not be for Goodbyes.
Winter, when the snow has shrouded the rich earth
In wispy wedding veil
The bare trees shudder against a cold, grey sky
As one bereft leaf clings to its yesterdays
Its lonely song adrift, a lost murmur upon the wind
And from far away, far, far away
Goodbye is heard
In the stillness