A Lady For All Seasons

A poem of love based on a dream

This poem I wrote specifically to be read aloud - slowly

in randomized iambic pentameter syllabic monotone. 

.I

Spring

Tenderly the slender tree her leaves outstretches
Like my lady happily her hand when morning
Reveals her rainbow robes and Ra’s radiant disk
Freshly minted rises and with golden tongue licks
Spring’s diamond dew with his melting kiss.
She shakes frozen dreams and unravels the seams
Binding Dawn’s beams of domed majesty.
She with velvet fingers undrapes night’s mystery,
Her wide eyes dancing over the dimpled valley below.

II.

Summer

Soon the summer bee teasingly tickles yet wet buds
As turquoise skies see silver puffs rise and she
Calls softly to pigeons nesting near her high windows.
They coo like I do at the sight of her too.
From honeyed heights their feathers toward her flutter
As gleefully she serves crispy seed and crystalline water;
Though thunder winds have grazed weathered wings,
They gratefully before her angelic face hover.

.III.

Autumn

Her beauty was raised from a land of orange blossoms
To nestle now in emerald and amber brushed hills
Where dry oak leaves crackle on stony trails,
Where echo the squeal and chatter of squirrels,
Where by the moss laden creek she loosens her sandals.
Gently autumn her braided hours weaves and how
Exuberant my heart to hold her hand now!
In joy she sighs and her love is a fluted chalice
Overflowing with the oil of gladness and when
Stars anoint heaven her kisses I savour again.

..IV..

Winter

We flee winter’s chill like feathered friends will,
And her bright eyes reflect me kindling fire.
Still, within burns a hunger demanding yet more
Than flames that flicker, peak, and roar.
The grapes my love yearns for are free of wrath
And her apples yield more than pomegranates.
Ah, for hours she charms as she lays in my arms
- and the renaissance of peace and love we seek :
we seize, for I kiss her cheeks to coax the spring.
She will come with boughs and flowers bring.
If Love be a sapling let it slowly firmly grow until
Fresh fires remain framed by ancient snow still.

Vicente Reyes
July 28, 2003