the end of summer

Once upon a time it was spring... and a girl wandered in the balmy air.  She smiled a happy smile, skipped a happy step, hummed a happy tune... and in her fingers floated a flower... plucked from beneath the brambles, it was a rare and beautiful flower...and its scent tickled her senses and she smiled.

Beneath the heat as spring turned to summer, the girl danced on, with her flower at her breast, colourful and bright, its scent became part of her days and her nights. Warm though it was, the girl clutched the flower to her, and when she noticed the petals grow soft, she gave it water to drink, and sang to it softly, coaxing its colours to shine.  Beneath the sun the girl danced in her garden, tending her flowers, her scented herbs, her luscious vegies... teaching her little angel to dance... and as the sun dipped and the shadows lengthened there the girl played a delicate juggling game, tending to the flower and all of the rest of her garden...

And so it was til the days grew cooler and the clouds gathered over head, and the girl busily bustled about, tending, gathering, weeding and caring... and one day she noticed that her little flower was wilted, its petals curled, its colour dull... and she paused in all the business, and she missed the sweetness of the scent...she missed the brightness of the bloom... but it was the end of summer and all things that are once young and beautiful pass into memory when their time has come... so the girl layed the flower gently on the earth, a tear fell, and she hoped that the seeds would find their way into the earth to grow new flowers, new beauty in a new garden of spring in the future.

And the girl wandered inside, closed the windows, and cuddled her angel to keep her warm.