I write these poems
for only one reason
I don’t care the day
or the time or the season

If flowers are blooming
or skies are bright blue
If meadowlarks sing midst
the fresh morning dew

If butterflies float
on a warm summer breeze
Or moonlight reflects
off of calm evening seas

If snow flurries fall
ever soft on the ground
Or musical whispers
are flitting around

If day turns to night
or night turns to day
If it starts to rain
washing it all away

If the sunrise is coming
or stars glow above
I write these poems
so she knows she is loved

She was a dimming ember.
And all she needed
was someone
to breath
a little life
into her.
So she could,
once again,
burn.