The rose buds bloomed in time—
Like the trickling of my affections for you,
I felt I had grown at least two inches taller than my usual size after all my wondering,
What is this?
Really, I can't place the name,
All I note are feels,
Tickles,
Warming,
A sense of longing when you're gone,
What is this?
You pulled me aside at a ball park,
I was only interested in the game,
The bleachers seemed like a safe place to be,
I never guessed I'd be hit,
So charming, yet so rude was the approach,
I was once told that shivery was dead,
, Yet somehow you blossomed,
Afore you're coming, I was a withered bud overwhelmed by too much sun,
Thence came the shade,
By your trunks I was enthralled,
How could I have avoided the breeze?
Why would I have wanted to, when it was just what I needed?
Sure, I see good reason now,
While I'm alone feeling deprived,
Your essence was a trial,
Not a fling meant to thrive,
And so I'm teased,
What is this?
Oh the breeze,
The alluring trail of its scent,
I'd follow it if only it held some promise,
Only for the birds did it grant such a thing,
For they had wings to carry them through,
My peddles could no more move me than my desires,
So rather than fly, I sighed to let go,
Spring…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem