Live like a summer?

a quick poem about how seasons are not measurements of a year, but a way of life.

Summer is not a season.

It is a way of life.

Like Spring and Autumn.

And even Winter I guess.

 

Who and what you are.

That is what matters.

How you live life.

To the pinnacle, like summer.

Or with spirit like spring.

Or with bitterness of twisted memories like Autumn.

Or not at all, waiting for a break that will never come.

Like Winter.

 

I am Autumn,

I am ageing and dying.

I have blossomed in by gone days.

And now the signs of my affection wallow 

and rot in people’s memories.

Twisting in colour and intention

Turning into I know not what.

 

Now, now I watch with envy.

To her, with bright eyes like the radiant sun.

Hair full and thick like tress with Summers green.

A smile filled with wine and song.

Merry making.

She is spirit and joy.

She is filled with life and love.

She is truly a summer of the world.

 

I watch her with envy.

I love her.

Yet I know she could never love me.

I am a sign of death.

Of decay.

Of fading beauty and twisted memory.

Changing colours and the ceasing of song and merry making.

 

Yet, still I watch her, dancing with joy and happiness.

So full of life she is, Summer.

So infectious is her way of life.

I wonder, as I look upon my crumbling beauty.

Can I choose to be a summer?

And live a life full of green again?

Author's Note

I ill be honest i am not quiet happy with this so it may be edited. But please feel free to add whatever you feel.

Reviews

[Mina Salva]

You should be happy about it, I LOVE IT :)

[annabellee]

Such a great idea, comparing people to seasons, very creative. I loved it :)

[Jenni Robinson]

Loving can be hard especially if the other doesnt love you back...

[Leigh]

I like this because its as though you are speaking to me and your references to the seasons are very atmospheric/great. I like the last stanza and the lead up stanzas that proceed it.

[Marcus Parks]

I think this sounds like two seperate poems trying to come together in a way that doesn't work. I know that for me, poetry's more about letting the readers find their own meaning while I can safely express mine.