{Semipoem} Disparity
Written for a writing.com contest, with the prompt, "Write a poem mentioning one of the months." (Or something like that.) I thought it curious no one had yet mentioned May-December romances, so here it is. I've always felt May was too understated; people naturally assume the younger is the more submissive, yet this isn't always true.
Disparity
“Remember December," they say.
“Recall the flurry of snow, clarity
In miles upon miles of snowy landscape.
The joy of sun-return, as soon as
The darkness that is winter solstice
Has passed. Amidst the cold,
Tinkly bells serenade joy,
Warming cockles everywhere.
How not to love December?”
How, indeed? Winter, bitter,
Enigmatic, with a kind of austere
Beauty - one I fell in love with.
They forget May, forget that Spring
Can be so much more powerful.
Look upon the beauty of greenery,
Compared to pure white; believe
That May is tame. (Even the name, itself.)
And they refuse to contemplate
That the birdsong of year-young May
Can dominate, even overpower,
The dulcet tones of the December piano.
Yet 7 is but a short span of years.
When you’re 91, I’ll be 84.
(But you are 91 reversed, now.)
[C: 1126h, 011205]
Disparity
“Remember December," they say.
“Recall the flurry of snow, clarity
In miles upon miles of snowy landscape.
The joy of sun-return, as soon as
The darkness that is winter solstice
Has passed. Amidst the cold,
Tinkly bells serenade joy,
Warming cockles everywhere.
How not to love December?”
How, indeed? Winter, bitter,
Enigmatic, with a kind of austere
Beauty - one I fell in love with.
They forget May, forget that Spring
Can be so much more powerful.
Look upon the beauty of greenery,
Compared to pure white; believe
That May is tame. (Even the name, itself.)
And they refuse to contemplate
That the birdsong of year-young May
Can dominate, even overpower,
The dulcet tones of the December piano.
Yet 7 is but a short span of years.
When you’re 91, I’ll be 84.
(But you are 91 reversed, now.)
[C: 1126h, 011205]