Moments of Memories

So soft, as flowers, was my hair.
Powder-soft was my baby skin.
My breath was sweet as morning air.
My eyes blue, like sky over glen.

Everyone would beg to hold me
and cuddle me next to their breast.
They would smile and laugh so sweetly,
rock me gently until I'd rest.

Springtime passed into summer sky.
Violets gazed into the blue.
New life swelled in branches on high.
The roses wore their darkened hue.

I donned my mother's wedding gown
and pretended to be a queen.
The veil, too big, tumbled down,
snowdrop of lace and velveteen.

Changed by the sun to living green,
my summer changed to autumn fair;
and sunlight danced across the screen,
painting its gold light upon my hair.

As morning dew and blushing day,
as sweet as fruit on branches cling,
I danced the day and night away
until I slept beside my king.

Now, darkness drapes heaven above,
the darker shades of earth to feel.
My childhood's gone; I've tasted love,
and lines are drawn like marks on steel.

Early weeds need tenderest care.
Flowers around my heart have grown.
Gardens in winter seem most bare,
but seeds were planted yet unknown.

Snowdrops glisten upon Earth's breast,
on sheltered banks, on dripping eaves.
On southern slopes, the winter's crest
is giving birth to springtime leaves.

The housefly steals from narrow grave
and beats against the sunny pane.
Drugged with the wonder winter gave,
it crawls across the lucid plain.

In languid curves, the serpent crawls
from out the earth, across the green.
From shaded chinks of lichen walls,
they disappear to points unseen.

At last young April, sweet and fair,
hides beneath the flowers of May;
and though the winter silvered my hair,
I can recall my yesterday.

And if by chance the azure lake
or the river of crystal blue
or stars of magic could awake,
I would be there, darling, with you.