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She watches Spring with sadness in her eyes,
and after that comes Summer edged in gold;
and Winter comes as Autumn falls and dies,
through Winter she lies shivering with cold.

He longs for her in gardens of their youth;
the pathways where they danced are etched with earth;
the flowerbeds lie empty and uncouth;
but he remembers what it once was worth.


One Spring three score and seven years ago,
the gardens were magnificent as she.
Her golden locks and golden eyes aglow
made her the heart of Summer jubilee.

Though every boy in town longed for her hand,
a gentleman—! Naught less would she demand.

And then that Fall a stranger came to town;
he was as debonair as he was dark.
The golden girl appraised his smile and frown,
and felt her love for him that day embark.

The stranger snubbed her girlish flirtations—
he saw enough of them with flippant glare.
Her heart broke, and crashed her expectations;
she sank into a Wintry, deep despair.

As Spring bloomed ‘cross the sodden world once more,
the stranger came a-calling to her heart.
Though fervent love for him burned as before,
her willful anger kept the pair apart.

Alas! The sadness of the human soul;
his yearning heart burned like a crimson coal.

Then one day came crying from the garden,
some solace and much comfort did she need.
He dropped on his knees to beg her pardon,
she whispered that she wanted him indeed.

The glowing lovers danced in Summer’s heat,
the coolest day of Fall was when they wed,
and Winter came as their love grew complete;
but Spring! ah, Spring! was when he found her – dead.

She walked among the flowers every day;
A serpent that sad morn hid on the ground.
It bit her on the leg, slithered away,
and there she died without another sound.


And still for him she whispers and she sings,
through every Summer, Winter, Fall, and Spring.