Seek me not but after every summer’s end;
Among withered flowers in meadow’s breeze and embers blend,
Behind the lonesome fog, my name wandered free
On all the reeks I left nothing, but painted glee
On lonely clouds thy face I sought not
But thy contour I tried; my mind forgot
A melody of pleasant memories, in the air will write
Will ripple, wander upon midnight gleaming bright
I shall sing for you every minute our story goes
Of love songs I fear; something seemed to lose
Maybe lost alone, from breeze passing by;
Or, wandered upon ripples of nature’s cry.
From behind reeks, sullen clouds; melodies ring
I shall remain, thy melody for thee I shall sing.
Maia Padua
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-ii-43/
