The Seasons Of Our Love
We missed each other's Springtime
because we were elsewhere.
Then Summer came, and left again
and still you were not there.
Soft Autumn, with its mellow tones
became our own lives' Spring,
We savoured it, and dreamed our dreams
of what each day would bring.
There seemed so many happy days
ahead for us to share,
We gave no thought to Winter
– but on a sudden it was there...
And all too soon we realised
the life we loved was gone,
The mists rolled in,
the dark clouds brought
the cold and driving rain.
You left –
I can but shelter...
and hope we meet again.
Richard Trembath's Other Poems
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(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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