Shall I endure her vilest winter frost
and splay archangels in the idle snow
until the maple sequins ochre glossed
cavorting upon autumns' brittle glow,
thereon in spring rebirth and bloom delights
were to retain the lust of our romance
and when summer's a haze of tepid lights
shall then exult upon the bay in trance,
ashore her amber braids ablaze in strands
and lustre into my myopic eyes
carom thereafter onto golden sands
careening then onto the grainy spies
as long as her diverse seasons cascade
await shall I until her summer's made.
Love and the many seasons that accompany it — happiness the kind spring brings, melancholy that comes in with the rain and the grief and sadness one might see in winters; and you have well blended these feelings with the seasons of your lover - a lady and her many seasons. This is an excellent portrayal of the myriad moods and feelings, and the wait for summer's joys. But isn't love a mixture of everything, then why keep awaiting her summer mood? Why not accept everything? [Do correct me if I have interpreted it wrong. :) ] All in all, a beautiful poem.