Spring Mocks

At the birth of the year, with winter’s end near, life takes a peek about.

The cold is now gone, so life must move on and it gently begins to sprout.
Men thank their gods for the harvest they reap, the magic within each seed.
Thus the season of life, the season of love, calls for a celebration indeed.

I look at the sky, a scarlet canvas, as the sun bids me goodbye.
Sigh as I may, I’m with no one today, as another year goes by.
So I realize, as I reminisce – days of peace, days of war –
that I must say, if I may, that for certain I’ve come quite far.

Spring is here, once again with cheer, calling me to dance with her.
Perhaps she mocks me; let it be, but a dance I’d still prefer.
So bring out the mead, and we’ll celebrate indeed, until our minds go numb.
With the music we’ll dance into a subliminal trance, for our happier days have come.

For all I know, I shall transcend all woe, and embrace my battle scars.
And the moon tonight shall dance as well with all the lovely stars.


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