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George Lewis Avery

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In Springtime when the meadows ring
With the joys of new life awakening
And colors fall from the painters brush
Onto the canvas with a sweeping flush
I can't hear my heart for the whispering:

When the stars of the skies
Are alight in your eyes
On a backgdrop as blue as the Sea
In glimmering pools as deep as the Sea
I care not if I drown, but I do otherwise.

In Summertime when the fields are green
While some birds sing and others preen
And the fledgling teeters on the edge of it's nest
To try it's wings at it's Mothers behest
I can't hear my heart for the whispering

When the Summer winds blow through your hair
Like dandelions whisped through the air
And butterflies take to the wing
While in the trees cicadas sing
I've seen your equal no otherwhere

In Autumn when the woodland scene
Has stripped away the wall of green
And colors again fall from the painters brush
Onto the canvas with a sweeping flush
I can't hear my heart for the whispering

There is that about you which abounds
As colorful as the leaves around
Your nose, your cheeks, your lips, your chin
The artists brush has touched your skin
I gaze upon his work, spellbound

In Winter when the trees are lean
For the twigs have bowed to the guillotine
And frost clings to the crooked nose
As a cold northeaster wind blows
I can't hear my heart for the whispering

For when you smile the sun doth shine
You engage me like the sweetest wine
I have no sense of chill or cold
In Winter you are a marigold
I fancy you are a Celestine

The Seasons are truly glorious things
Wherein there lies embosoming
A beauty that I daily find
A bBeauty that is well refined
And it muffles my heart with it's whispering

.oeg ©

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