- Books, Literature, and Writing
Oh dear, please don't go... not yet.
I'm not ready. Is it really that time again? Surely I just slept too long!
I look through my window, see your back and I tell myself I will not be able to bear your parting, not again.
But somehow... I will manage, of course. I always do. I slog my way through the greater part of the year without you.
But tell me this, my favorite friend, do you think of me while you're gone? Do you even remember that you've left me sitting here by my window waiting for your return?
I remember everything about you.
Your smell: Whether day or night; it's crisp, like the bite of an apple.
Your taste: like cinnamon and warm bread, baking on an open hearth.
Your sound: possibly my favorite; leaves, crunching under foot... and laughter. There is always laughter when you're close by.
Your cold like snowflakes and warm like a campfire; throwing sparks into the sky, keeping my back cold, but my hands and face warm.
And then the look of you... you are a vision, a magical feast for the eyes. As if God Himself has thrown from the sky, gold doubloons made of parchment. Red rose petals as light as paper, falling from trees.
Please, come back to me.
Why you come and go so quickly, I'll never know. Surely you were meant to stay longer. Have you broken a rule, that you must take flight before I have had my fill of you?
I will be here. I will be waiting by this window when you return. For if I leave this spot, I might miss your recurrence. And I would never forgive myself if I was not here to welcome you home.