As all good things must tumble down
turned up against the tide-
The same is true of you and I
My friend-please, do oblige.

These days-I take-to travel far
And through and through I shall.
With winters bite upon my heel
Left with me-no morale.

And as the days began to thaw
-With flowers bursting blue-
I'd see myself in all the shades,
of each and every hue.