Solsta

Her voice was the promise of May
Sounding on cold December ears,
Stirring frozen lips to speak of
Memories that would one day grow
From unfrozen earth,

In the bloom of spring he wrote for her,
Warm volumes of melodic summer,
Tracing every line and curve of her splendor
Into the stories they had become,

She defies the changing of the seasons,
With an orbit all her own,
And lets him see the Sol and solace of August in her
Every day.