The orchestrated patter of the gilded leaves that fall
Weighs heavy on my heart, heavy on the floor.
And that lead which weighs within them all
Hurries the promise of a baneless summer quickly out the door.

The chill of snow and ice into the warmth of hearth doth crawl
And blankets your heart, blankets the floor.
And that sun which melts the coldest of them all
Has left without a trace by means of some hidden door.

The glistening of the tender leaves and budding of the blooms
Makes the tenderness of being flood my heart, flood the floor.
And the dark and misty coldness no longer herein looms
Springtime and sunshine have hustled it out the door.

The warmth of the morning sun that the day consumes
Lifts the weight from my heart, the weight from the floor.
It melts the ice of yesterday, happiness it exhumes
And love once more pads softly through the warmth of open doors.

--30 June 2003 7:50 am--