When spring evokes again the blushing roses,
And bluebirds herald summer’s gifts with song,
Despondent winter mournfully reposes
Upon her glacial bed, bowed-down, forlorn.
Yet when she wakes from slumber’s depths to bid
Adieu to autumn’s waning gilded hours,
She greets the sovereigns of her season mid
A slow cortege of dying leaves and flowers.
Beneath her silver thaw the glow of youth
Is quelled, and time creeps heavy on the brow.
The whimsies of the past succumb to truth;
The gleaming sunbeams to the shadows bow.
But even while December’s snow descends,
The Maytide of our love never ends.
John Polselli’s poetry has been published in many literary journals and is the recipient of several Editor’s Choice Awards. As a poet, John enjoys composing in all traditional forms including free verse as well as inventing his own.