Summer died this week.

Spring left him awake an hour later,
It gave him time to write away
His life in ink on mechanical homicide.
To Autumn, with respect,
'I leave you the greenest grass,
and the youthful leaves.'
To winter, oh fair winter:
'I leave you one less lover,
In exchange for one more romance.'
And to Spring, the breathtaking
embodiment of love herself,
'I leave you the Autumn,
I leave you the Winter,
But let their love not blind your eyes.
Make for them a sun,
Make for them stars,
Make for them a moon,
Make for me the breath,
By which to taste your heart
Once more.'
This is an amazing piece of work! The imagery you paint is so vivid, and the word choice is excellent! Please, do expand on this, it could definitely turn out much more powerful. Bravo.