Caricamento in corso...

Akin To An Infinite Well

God’s autumnal architecture
Roof over woodland creatures’ home
Lackadaisically littering leaves
Red, yellow, purple, and brilliantly brown tone
 
Heavens, by this phenomenon, garner clear and void sight
Vivid through a mature fall sky
Provided breeze for the leaves’ first flight
 
Tequisous is the key in the wind
Wind operates as hole on a knob of a seasonal door
Sky laying blanket to the now naked limbs
Limbs’ foliage receded to a new home, the forest floor
 
Serenity, a remote snow covered cottage
Netherlands’ winter of 1919
A horse drawn carriage clip loping on cobblestone
Painting a picturesque scene
 
Caped and gowned social élites
Under an inn’s hanging lantern
Awaiting a chariot’s royal ride
Steam rose in the thick winter air
Rotten bunch gasping for breath
Sought to swallow their pride
 
Encompassment of bountiful enigmas
Vibrant greenery
Charismatic sense of refreshing new life
Accompaniment to spring
Revelation of the New Year
Crops, wealth, love
No certain limit to what the months ahead may bring
 
Fall, winter, and spring
Three special times with respective wonders
All hold a place dear to my heart
Summer is excluded
Offered only heat and misery
Having kept loved ones apart
 
Arms spread ready to collapse  
Into the pile of colonially colored leaves
Under the lantern in a pretentious period of time
Boarding the captivating carriage
Frolicking in spring’s grandiosely green field of dreams
 
Compared to my adore and desire
For my darling  
Favored momentous seasonal sensations
Materialize par with a drought in hell  
Depths of our love so unidentifiable
Akin to a suspended bucket of water
Banging against wet walls
Plunging ceaselessly down a bottomless well
 
Is she the ornately innate variation stirring between seasons?
Is she my fall, winter, spring, and summer?
Is she only certain ones?
 
Or is she more over particular months, days, or hours?
She’s a contradiction of the seasons
In the harshest of winters or driest of summers
Remaining as fascinating as springs most piebald flowers
 
She’s my birthday
She’s my trick or treat on Halloween
She’s my Thanksgiving
She’s my everything
 
She’s my Christmas morning
She’s my New Years resolution
She’s Valentine and my Easter basket
For a long time now, her love is all I’ve wanted
And it’s been a good year because I’ve had it

Altre opere di Carter Lee Hach...



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