I’ll marry you midsummer
Bouquet of pend’lous sedge
And make sweet love together
Within that row of hedge
The lark will be our choir
The sun our witness fair
I’ll marry you midsummer
But winter won’t be there

He married me midsummer
Our love was at a high
But love is often fleeting
And lost under the sky
The hare will run forever
The days they shorten fast
He married me midsummer
But beauty need not last


Author: thepoetautist

A Gay poet of fifty odd years who is currently living in Cambodia.

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