Sunday, March 15, 2009

The Late Spring



The Late Spring By Bluewind

At last, spring has come
To its end that we all shall.
Time is changing, tide is coming
All things shall change, as long destined.

Groom, bloom and wither,
All flowers go through this designed cycle.
And then, depart, onto the water,
Carried away as if no one remember.

As flowers float with water,
I bid my heartfelt farewell.
I shall not linger untimely
but swiftly wave and cease to be.

I’m still pretty as I leave
You shall not see how I weep and grieve
May you remember how I made you happy
How I left a mark upon your stirless being.

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