show me fall
Shy shoots affection ventured early May
Had grown to maturation by July.
Our sweet October walk was scripted play
While, fresh-naïve, my heart planned you and I
My fears predicted winter’s crispy snap;
Ellipses in your voice gained frequency.
For all my virtue, I was yet your trap.
Against your will, you practiced larceny.
Left wanting for the truest part of you,
Long-suffering a role I wouldn’t take,
Last chosen of your heart could never do
Once melodrama cooled to gentle ache.
Volcanic vengeance, keep to summer’s thrall.
End us, instead, with memories of fall.
poetry | prose and stuff | pictures | grammar | recommendations | rants | links | what's new | FAQ | email me
all
written works © April Palleria, 2002