We were once spring lovers
Walking through lush green fields
Gathering flowers to place
In your sunlight-blonde hair.
We kissed beneath
The first budding maple trees
And felt such a rush
Of breathtaking love and lust
That we thought
We were volcanoes
That would ceaselessly erupt
Painting even a starless night
With a yellow golden glow,
But love is false and untrue,
You can’t trust marriages in June,
They never survive the sepia-tint
Of autumn leaves and truth,
You can only magically touch someone
For a fleeting moment
And then let them go
To find another dream,
But I know what you meant to me
In that hour of flowers.
Uriah Hamilton
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-that-hour-of-flowers/
