For thee …

In the winter, it is my soul which sings for thee.
Perhaps you hear it's song in the eve
but hear not, and do not perceive
it's harmony and melody and rhapsody for you.

It is my spirit which in the spring rejoices for thee,
desperate for youth and life,
held not by the confines of death or strife.
It is as life forever reborn and endless as it is true.

For then as summer falls, lives my self for thee,
gathering the fruit and herb from soil and sod,
gifts from my heart, where your memory does trod;
A warm breeze for the eve to fade into.

But know then that in the fall it is my heart for thee,
a most sensual taste on the lips of time,
bitter as ale, as sweet as rhyme,
returning again and again will my love for thee, as life, renew.

ATS
02/28/99