I'm summertime to your heart,
Don't take our love all apart;
Drifting clouds and we depart,
Grow your seeds with care.

Forests of souls can not park,
Hound dogs of past to them bark;
Gone are sweet tunes of the lark,
Heartbreaks I can't bear.

Rivers of love gone and lost,
Our affection almost at frost;
Feelings inside all out tossed,
Heart's stones inside here.

Peter S. Quinn

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/33-from-what-s-really-happening-in-54-numbers/