A golden park

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park

Not far from where I live is a golden park,
Hidden from the reach of noise and crowds.
Within its boundaries grow wondrous trees,
Tall and wise who gently speak to me.
Theirs is not a language full of words.
They choose to speak through the swaying
Of leaves and branches, the snapping of twigs,
Through colours adorning blossoms of many hues.
Wrapped in natures sweet motherly scent and coat,
What they say is full of rhythm and harmony,
Always speaking of the virtues of love and peace.
From wisdom so deep comes their voice that,
Even the deaf can hear and the blind can see.
This one tree that everyday speaks to me,
In spring it whispers gently to remind me of
Natures love; pointing at the buds that bloom
And the rain that bathes and winds that soothes
And the shyness of the gentle loving sun.
By summer it speaks of joy and nurturing
As it basks under the sun’s passionate glow.
Tall, strong and proud it stands bearing a full coat
Of green swaying in the summer breeze.
By autumn it points to the end of bountifulness
And speaks of tears to come. Embracing the
Wind it reveals its inner beauty and grace,
Shedding light on tolerance and fortitude.
In winter stripped bare, wearing winters coat
It speaks of the secret of life and longevity;
Peacefully, silently, it stands listening to the wind.
Oblivious to its taunts it waits patiently, dutifully
Conserving every ounce of energy in readiness
For the awakening of the dormant sun to herald
The coming of spring and with it a new beginning.

J M Lysun

A growing separation

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separation

An alternative to “a growing love“

In the spring of our encounter all blossomed in our wake.
Surrounded by beauty, the darkness of the world could not touch us.

As you touched my life like a summer breeze, you brought a myriad of colours,
that opened doors once sealed to my heart that allowed hope, long buried,
to once again stir into life and bring love and happiness to emptiness.
You were a refreshing breathe of air that brushed aside the stifling heat of summer.

But by the autumn of our time together the bloom began to fade and the once
sweet, rosy aura that was our bond had succumb to the arid air of discontentment;
suffocating, the once abundant love turned into a nothingness, that neither of us
could cherish. We watched as unforgiving, biting frost was brought too soon
into the autumn of our love, with not enough warmth saved from summer to
give comfort. We witnessed the illusion of love fade under the cold icy layers of blind
fury determined to conceal the once abundant affection.

By the winter of our union, bitterness was all that remained. With nothing else to hold
but a fragile peace; a desire for freedom grew into an irresistible, all consuming,
force. Wave after wave the noise of our divided hearts drove us apart; enticing us
with the promise and dream of a new beginning. A new spring.

J M Lysun