{"sf1_id":955396,"sf2_id":"dePGMbw1","title":"The Four Maidens","author":"GuardianKing","words":274,"posted_at":"2016-01-17T00:08:00.000Z","tags":["Poetry","Summer","Winter","autumn","change","cycle","faeries","fall","free verse","life","seasons","spring"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/955396-the-four-maidens","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/dePGMbw1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/84/77/8477d270-33c4-4c5b-ac15-f7546651e60f","description":"#1 of Poems\n\nIt brushes by a cool breeze in the spring... It shines like the solstice of summer... It falls like leaves in autumns... And it rests like snow of the winter...","content":"The first maiden conducts\n\nin her flowery dress\n\nthe song the birds sing\n\ncarried by the breeze.\n\nBy her side rests\n\na basket woven\n\nby hand\n\nfilled to the brim\n\nwith buds\n\nand blooms.\n\n  \n\nThe second maiden\n\ngazed at the\n\nflowing river\n\nin her blue robes\n\nthat did flow like the tide\n\nalongside the cool wind.\n\nShe brings\n\nfresh fruits\n\nand fine wine,\n\ntarps for the rain,\n\nand water from the spring.\n\n  \n\nThe third damsel strolls in\n\non her pumpkin carriage,\n\nher dress snared in vines\n\nand crusty leaves.\n\nShe carries\n\na rich harvest\n\nby her side,\n\nwhistling a tune\n\nof hard labor\n\nand merry dancing.\n\n  \n\nThe fourth lady\n\ndresses in white,\n\na cloak over her eyes.\n\nShe holds out her trembling hands\n\nto offer\n\nsilvery flakes,\n\ncold winds,\n\nand warmth by a\n\nlonely fire.\n\nThe first damsel\n\noffers the quiet lady\n\nin white\n\nbright flowers\n\nand blooming buds\n\nto give her silvery landscapes\n\ncolor.\n\n  \n\nThe second lady\n\ngives the flowery maiden\n\nfresh fruits\n\nand warm winds,\n\ncool rivers\n\nthat flow with fierce\n\ncurrents\n\nto move her lively landscapes\n\nalong.\n\n  \n\nThe third maiden\n\npulls from her carriage\n\na gift for her\n\nsister in blue:\n\nrich harvests,\n\norange leaves,\n\nhard labor,\n\nand festivals\n\nto fill her\n\nwarm nights\n\nwith song and dance.\n\n  \n\nFinally, the hooded damsel\n\nblows her silvery flakes\n\nover her sister's\n\ncarriage\n\nto coat her bright,\n\ncolorful scenes\n\nin white\n\nand give the land she filled with song\n\nthe gift of\n\nsilence.\n\n  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd when all gifts\n\nexchanged hands,\n\nthe ladies gathered\n\naround in a\n\ncircle.\n\nWith word they\n\nvowed\n\nto return once again.\n\nFor t'was not farewell:\n\ntheir cycle had only\n\nbegun\n\n  \n\n  \n  \n\n"}