Geraldines of Old

And there goes the scent of mulberry trees
Again I rest my grinding thoughts of summer
But lonely in this vernacular humbling mirth
I raise the voice that failed to sing
And then I creep under the poet's bed
Because lonely is she above the crests
Because gentility failed to see me gone
And I remembered the law of spring
That I am new when green is all

All that wept and never laughed
Silently I wait on Time
I know where she is going, and she'll be lost
At the river's bend they wait for us
No, they go ahead, they chant their crimes
She never rests, time, my friend
You were bold once and never twice
I saw their walls, they keep us in
Away from their feathers, so tender
And we taint their blossoms
With our freedoms

But I go ahead and learn my books
Again suffering from myselfness
Not that anybody is disappointed,
No, they need us all preoccupied