Wild lily blooms covering all of the darkest of winter’s gloom,
While a long summer is crawling nearly with every root,
A tremble voice is all but another song,
To the lonely meadow children of dawn.
What a lonesome ballad to be sung,
All the while the bees are gone.
Departing within the feverish honeysuckle’s bloom,
For they are the frost’s lustful tune.
While the summer wilds are of a chanting child,
They go out to cover the valleys, with lilies and wilds.
Remember all is not lost when the flowers arrive within the frost,
A lone voice is an echo to the North dear child.
Summer winds will calm and call,
As we all forget about the winter’s wiles.
Until then, goodnight to the summer child.
About the author
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme