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Poem of the Week – Nocturne Pour La Petite Morte

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Nocturne Pour La Petite Morte

When… the last Morning star softly fades in the dawning
of the pale misting light,
of the last summer’s morning…

When… the last blossom smiles in the last sun-ray, beaming…
and the last story ends…
with all hopes, and all dreaming…

As the last swallow climbs on the last winds a’breathing,
and the last butterfly lifts her wings,
for the leaving…

l shall love you, still.

When… the last Dragonfly spreads her wings in the warm glow,
for…. to dart her last flight
in the last flowering meadow…

As the last leaves burn gold from the deep forest greening…
and the last Bumblebee dreams
her last honeyed dreaming,

As the last Swan glides down to the last rivers’ wending,
and the last crystal spring softly flows
to its ending…

l shall love you, still.

When… the last Rainbow smiles through the last gentle shower,
and the last petal falls
from the last fading flower…

As the last Skylark lifts, in her last spiral weeping,
And the last cloudling melts
in the last azure deeping,

When the last birdsong rings in the last woodland gladeing,
and the last Eagle soars, her last, sad cry
softly fading…

l shall love you, still.

When… the last Mountain range crumbles down, swiftly breaching,
and whatever might be
is now far from the reaching…

When the last Ocean breaks the last wave, softly foaming,
and the last Seabird’s cry
on the last breeze a’roaming,

As the last sands of time softly run to their dooming,
with the last precious hours
of the last day swift looming…

l shall love you, still.

When… the last Sun is goldening, with the last dusk a’creeping…
and the last Evening star
shimmers to her last sleeping…

As the last pale moon drifts to her last wane-some flowering,
and the last twilight glim
of the last day is lowering,

As the last stars grow dark, with the last night a’deepening,
and all that was once,
is no more for the keeping…..

l shall love you, still.

© Windhover

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