if by chance summer's colors forget you

like the lost love of your life,

scattered heart petals let loose,

one at a time,

and you find your way back up

the garden path of love unconditional,

take heed of fair weather's warnings

rose refuse trampled on and left to curl and crunch,

yet what's to be expected

from this weakened nature, this fool's charade,

little puppet you danced, wound up and bound,

dangling from the strings pulled with true skill,

and your tears gathered there on a  branch's edge

dance, little puppet, dance,

among the far-flung fields,

green with the envy of the forgotten,

yet afire with the blooming of rainbows,

big and small, love's spirits joined hands,

wearing leafy crowns of this drifting reverie

and there,

love's foolish puppet,

you remained,

discussing the wind's fiery brush of fresh air,

blowing back the fall of the grey clouds

once more-

once more,

we ride bareback those very clouds,

once more,

we bow blushing for the poppy's red kiss,

tangled up two by two in the anchoring weeds,

we loves now tossed away and wavering,

on the tips of autumn's brittle grass