Slowly I would rise and not dress
It was the Saturday of birds
To hear you speak
When April turns on Spring
I’d wake with a song
Caught in my throat
With a labour to tweet
And a blaze of lyricism
For love’s austere office
This craft of poems, that never
Get tired of writing each other
Sunday felt like eternity
How many words would be
Written before then, my hands
ii
Were always empty, as if
I had nothing that I possessed
But beauty was my mantra
And I spoke indifferently to the Spring
Because I knew the Spring
Well, it would never fail me
Not with its tip-toe light
Not with how happy the people would be
Not with the great call to life
And the end to all of my patience.
cool post!
CustomizeToronto.com
Thanks Neil, how is Toronto these days?
Beautiful! The sun is finally shining and we’re sitting in double digit weather now! can’t complain at all! 🙂
Yes tomorrow will be even better! God the spring is nice.