My Private Spring

A mindless verse, untimely trip;
The empty space of Sunday drip

In heat that robs me once again,
I say this to you very plain:

A spring that wasn’t here last year
Nor of the year before, I fear;

For decades old, long time ago,
I was a babe, so was it so?

Both in & out, I’m at a loss
To find the side that grows the moss.

Yet come they will, but when I’m old,
And so too will the marigold.

I feel it in my DNA;
Why have the springs all gone away?

Shall I be first to leave my post,
Tithe all I own, what matters most

In search of this elusive thing,
A worthy quest: my private spring.

My lover, wait. Come with me, Fates.
Don’t go, come here. I want you near.

As it was meant when last we spoke,
And have we since missed when it broke?

Make worth the while, undo the crime;
Bequeath the spring, and just in time.



Copyright 2018 Jade Pandora. All Rights Reserved.