Like sprightly spring and autumn's boredom We are two lovers, different from another Cold as cold is, the old man holds a sneeze in With war around, vulnerable people wash their sins
A snowflake sits on the roof, melting overhead The sun shimmering, as cleansing as an ablution Underneath two crystal gazers cover the grass Warmth to warmth, ashen leaves and stalk
Thistle to thicket, the birch covers the sun, a gas giant Her eyes encompass all as eagles perched atop everyone Grey with age, blue, gelid like ice, looking for some silver The mountains echo her eternal reflection that disturb the conifers
I wrote this as a meditation on the art of language and the concept of its usage. Language and rhyme are intricately webbed in this poem to form a melange of imagery.