Spring Will Be Late This Year Poem by Lora Colon
Spring Will Be Late This Year
Spring will be a little late this year,
With sadness, I still remember
How warm Spring was when you and I loved,
Now, each day is as cold as December
The trees raise leafless arms to the sky,
Shivering without their green sleeves,
Sadly, birds gaze into vacant nests,
Spring promised so much.... how it deceives!
The flowers of May beg my forgiveness,
They refuse to wake from their sleep,
Vowing to bloom only in love's warmth.....
A promise they're unable to keep
Spring will be a little late this year,
My tears turn to ice as they fall,
My heart, now sobered by your absence,
Cries for love, but who'll answer the call?
On my face, the frozen lines of pain
Bear witness to true love, now lost,
The sun has shuttered its golden doors,
My abandoned heart's covered in frost
The flame of love once kindled the torch
That brightly lit the lonely hall,
If love's glowing warmth fails to unfold....
Spring will be late..... if it comes at all
My voice joins in to sing with those Whose muses learn new harmony Our pilgrimage your heart's own door In spite of life's cacophony In spite of snow or winter's frost We wait for words of love and more, Prepared to suffer any cost Including slightly frozen nose.
A beautiful poem. Very nicely envisioned. Good word choice. Many thanks........10
On my face, the frozen lines of pain...... Such sad words Lora. Your words are certainly heartfelt. But our lives are mapped out and we must as hard as it is find that ray of sunshine and follow it. x
The extended winters and the unabated snowfall around this time of the year has made life miserable. This lyrical poem has put the harshness of cold in the right perspective. How beautifully the scene, inside and outside both, has come to fore in the poem: Spring will be a little late this year / My tears turn to ice as they fall / If love's glowing warmth fails to unfold..../ Spring will be late..... if it comes at all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/21/2024 8:52:31 PM # 1.0.0.1119
So much pain in the poem yet so beautifully articulated. These lines stand out: Spring will be a little late this year, My tears turn to ice as they fall, My heart, now sobered by your absence, Cries for love, but who'll answer the call? On my face, the frozen lines of pain Bear witness to true love, now lost, The sun has shuttered its golden doors, My abandoned heart's covered in frost