Summer's Eyes shine

sublimely

penetrating deep in ocean

mine

tattoos upon my consciousness

which Summer illuminates

but she, too, burns

from giving more heat

than I can withstand

a searing of my soul

I, am, the moth to her flame;

a supplicant

intoxicated by her Summerness

her Sherazade

her Red Burning Flower

her mere attention;

I chased her light

but was consumed by her heat

seared heart returning time and time again

to her cobalt inferno kiss..

She was my incendiary addiction

from which I tried

time and time again to retire

from her and her fire

which attracted me so-

the lady with the red hair

and green eyes-

my Summer fix.

But now I look rather to

those with Spring's touch

No fault of Summer here

she was captured and bound inside her own lovely bloom,

but I had to recognize

in fact

I'm more at ease

with Spring's Empathies

than with fiery Summer flowerings.

The many chased after Summer's Heat

But now I know I am more suited

to relish Spring's offerings;

than Summer's Insouciance

rather than her too ripened,

too wise Summer flower

over-sure of its own beauty

oblivious of Flames and Moths.