butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (Default)
[personal profile] butterflydreaming


Delicious in the June heat,
smooth as ice cream to my tongue,
it was melting and sweet,

and there-and-gone too fast;
I hardly got a taste
of promise that didn't last.

This is what is means to be young,
joyfully and passionately fleet,
seeking honey and getting stung,

And what would I do with a heart that is paced
or a spirit rigidly cast?
I will live as I do, with not a whim replaced.
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