Seasons of Love
Love does not follow a calendar, it begins when it appears.
So springtime occurs anytime during the year.
Our love began in the glory of autumn's blaze,
But for our romance it was the spring and it began to bloom.
Buds of pure passion appeared in our minds,
Every soft and lush color as heat infused our bodies.
Early blossoms burst forth that could not be withheld.
And the blush of infatuation infused all our time.
Oh and then summer burst forth in our lives,
Hot touches, dewdrops appeared on our bodies,
Deep colors appeared and the warm fragrant air,
Caressed us as we caressed and learned each other's needs.
And now love, its autumn in the world and our life.
Our love is steadfast, no longer just hot bursts of passion,
But oh so much more, with glorious colors that seem to be unreal.
Its a gorgeous time for our souls that are so intertwined.
Yes, I do know what comes next, but I have no fear.
Our winter love will be one of crystalline perfection.
Just as ice and snow glaze still living limbs of each lovely tree,
Our love lives and thrives while resting for rebirth.
Because spring always returns for the world and our love,
That passion we know so well will reawaken,
Our senses once again alive with the beauty.
The unbelievable truth becomes undeniably real.
Our love blooms, thrives, blazes in glory, and then rests,
But never does it die, never is it quenched.
It follows the same cycle of beauty that enfolds the world,
And on it goes, certain and true, our love is unfolding forever.