Late love

Much after the summer sunshine,
Through wither spring and chilly nights
your loving fingers seek mine now
when autumn had also lost all fights

I do remember my ancient tears
But their dampness monsoon has forgotten
I mourn no more my lonesome years
I love all seasons since your love I’ve gotten

I fear not the buried demons
nor what is to come, however grave
Strong in the love that came so late
All calamities, I believe, I can brave.