(A song! which I will eventually write music for and sing! also probably some more of the words will change, but these are the bones)
green wood’s dying promise
met bronze-burnished squalls
and both danced like fair folk,
and the moon rose too quickly
and the sun turned too cool.
Winter is mighty while young things are flighty,
And spring calls our minds up above,
But man was forgotten as apples go rotten
When summer and autumn found love
they waltzed without care,
all wrapped up in romance,
their breath like a prayer,
and longer each year reigned
‘til one maiden cried “Why!”
“We must speak to spring!”
Winter is vicious and always suspicious
and spring tries to soften his blows
but man has no glory, no part in this story,
while seasons’ love steadily grows.
When autumn loved summer,
and one day she slipped away
Through trials, through trails,
But strength comes with light as the weeping of night
slips swift away into the past,
and as the day grows, see! the maiden arose,
and stood there was sweet Spring at last.
And pleased was the Springtide
her plight she did solve,
so the girl left rejoicing
as the green of home called.
by Springtide’s decree for
their love they must mourn,
Autumn’s torrential and summer is gentle
and sweethearts have emptier hands
but August is sly and to spring she has lied,
for then the two lovers return to their dance.
(and it’s true, for my mother she told when I asked).
kianamaiart
izzy806
germansingergirl
