Summertime
Jan. 9th, 2012 01:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
intheheartTitle: Summertime
Rating: PG
Summary: Summer, the seasons, and a butterfly.
Date: December 2017
Notes: FFFFFFFF why do I write sestinas. Why do I do this to myself. Seriously, guys, the next time I want to write one of these, tell me no.
There's winter days when all she does is breathe
And turn her face to the weak, listless sun.
It is too cold sometimes to even dance
No matter how her body sings with joy.
All she can do is long for summer bright;
Watch drift, on stained-glass wings, a butterfly.
There's something perfect in a butterfly.
Something about the way it makes you breathe,
Something about its shining colors bright
That in their flashing glory best the sun.
There's something summer-like within their joy,
A certain glow that hangs about their dance.
If she is sometimes clumsy in her dance,
No matter; she will be a butterfly,
Abandon all discomfort in her joy
Until there's nothing left to do but breathe
And feel the shining splendor of sun
And know there's something in her that is bright.
That brilliance, the colors shining bright
That paint the world entire in their dance
Can sometimes hide away as does the sun.
In autumn, they flit south like butterflies.
In winter, she will find it hard to breathe
And harder to remember any joy.
In spring it starts to rise again, that joy
That makes anew her world in colors bright
But still she finds it hard sometimes to breathe
Until the summer starts its brilliant dance
And then once more she is a butterfly
That gambols in the kindness of the sun.
The summer brings her hope back with the sun.
Her namesake lights her soul with fearsome joy.
She wears bright hues and whirls, a butterfly
That gallivants through days of summer bright
And draws all those around her to the dance
That gives her once again a space to breathe.
The summer sun will once again shine bright
She will again feel joy, again will dance.
For now, she tends a butterfly, and breathes.
Rating: PG
Summary: Summer, the seasons, and a butterfly.
Date: December 2017
Notes: FFFFFFFF why do I write sestinas. Why do I do this to myself. Seriously, guys, the next time I want to write one of these, tell me no.
There's winter days when all she does is breathe
And turn her face to the weak, listless sun.
It is too cold sometimes to even dance
No matter how her body sings with joy.
All she can do is long for summer bright;
Watch drift, on stained-glass wings, a butterfly.
There's something perfect in a butterfly.
Something about the way it makes you breathe,
Something about its shining colors bright
That in their flashing glory best the sun.
There's something summer-like within their joy,
A certain glow that hangs about their dance.
If she is sometimes clumsy in her dance,
No matter; she will be a butterfly,
Abandon all discomfort in her joy
Until there's nothing left to do but breathe
And feel the shining splendor of sun
And know there's something in her that is bright.
That brilliance, the colors shining bright
That paint the world entire in their dance
Can sometimes hide away as does the sun.
In autumn, they flit south like butterflies.
In winter, she will find it hard to breathe
And harder to remember any joy.
In spring it starts to rise again, that joy
That makes anew her world in colors bright
But still she finds it hard sometimes to breathe
Until the summer starts its brilliant dance
And then once more she is a butterfly
That gambols in the kindness of the sun.
The summer brings her hope back with the sun.
Her namesake lights her soul with fearsome joy.
She wears bright hues and whirls, a butterfly
That gallivants through days of summer bright
And draws all those around her to the dance
That gives her once again a space to breathe.
The summer sun will once again shine bright
She will again feel joy, again will dance.
For now, she tends a butterfly, and breathes.
