Short Flights

_Seasons that pass me by in varied mood, As on the impressionable land you leave a trace, Molding sometime a delicate flower’s sweet face, Touching again with green the somber w...

Then, swift as flies the meteor’s spark, His anger disappears; Born for the hour it met its mark,-- He sootheth now love’s fears, While wrong sits trembling in the dark!

The eager vines close clasp the pillars round, As though to hide the signs of their decay; The cheerless chambers echo with each sound That enters in where Silence holds her sway.