For Elisa
When the south winds blow and the west winds alterClouds and heavens stale and falter
Leaving the air both cold and still
In all together will
Though the clock is wrong
My mind's aware of his hiatus
Just when his hands are fresh and long
I know that at the end, there's still a beautiful us
Optimism's just a part of my elongated vocabulary
Even though under my skin I'm wary
Of winter's icy claw retrieves
The oak's palpable leaves
Though the season's wrong
In doing such a tempered deed
His ugly face reared always early ever long
Just know that all year through, you are my only need
Poetry by weirdzarun
Read 579 times
Written on 2009-02-11 at 03:12
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