Spring you total ****
what goes with you
you promise much
teasing us with summer’s waiting arms
yet still you flirt with winter
and make us wait to sample all your green and airy charms
it just won’t wash, the rest of us have had about enough
I know you think it’s funny
now come on out and do your proper stuff

(inspired by Malia’s poem ‘crack the code’)

the unspoken poems
are the loudest
the ones you don’t utter
the times you don’t bother
symphonies of silence
votes of no confidence
trust marbled with rust
what's become of us?

As I watch the wind
leave,  during Fall
one after another
they would gather
their life now over
only left to lay and decay

Old tree now naked in the Sun!
Much lighter now,
it raises it's limbs up to the heavens
praying
Soon the winds will send Winter
and then it too can rest.