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Spoilt and pampered season
indulged and petulant spring,
please don't pout and drag your heels
we need the light you bring,
the birds and bees are waiting
so could you make a start
be a dear, stop sulking
it's time you played your part
Asher Feb 20
she brings the rain, soft and slow,  
a hush of silver, a gentle glow.  
yes, i care for springtime bright,  
but care for nothing in her light.  

she brings the rain, the world turns grey,  
yet melts the clouds, she clears the way.  
in dawn’s embrace, so cool, so wide,  
she brings the rain, i stand inside.
inspired by a song i heard in the show euphoria
Spring, a hesitant touch, like the first unfurling of a fern.  Sunlight, a pale gold wash over new green shoots, mirroring the shy blossoming of our affection.  Stolen glances, quick as the darting of hummingbirds, a shared laugh, light as the breeze whispering through willow branches.  The air thick with the promise of something more, a burgeoning warmth that melts the last frost of doubt.  We walk hand in hand, the earth beneath our feet soft and yielding, a reflection of our hearts opening to each other.  The scent of hyacinth and damp earth, a heady perfume that intoxicates the senses, a prelude to the vibrant summer to come.

Summer, a blaze of color, a riot of sensation.  Days long and languid, stretching out like sun-drenched meadows.  Our love, a sunflower turning its face to the light, bold and unapologetic.  Passionate embraces, as fierce as a summer storm, leaving us breathless and renewed.  We swim in lakes, cool and dark, our bodies slick with water, mirroring the depths of our feelings.  The taste of ripe berries, sweet and ****, lingers on our tongues, a reminder of the sweetness we’ve found in each other.  Fireflies ignite the twilight, tiny sparks of light mirroring the fire that burns between us.

Autumn, a tapestry of russet and gold, a time of mellow reflection.  Our love, a vintage wine, rich and complex, aged to perfection.  Long walks through forests ablaze with color, leaves crunching beneath our feet like whispered secrets.  We gather close, drawn together by the chill in the air, finding warmth in each other’s arms.  The scent of woodsmoke and cinnamon, a comforting aroma that fills our home, a sanctuary built for two.  Our conversations deepen, like the lengthening shadows of late afternoon, exploring the hidden corners of our souls.  We are grateful for the harvest of our love, the bounty of shared experiences.

Winter, a blanket of white, a time of quiet intimacy.  Our love, a flickering candle in a darkened room, a beacon of warmth and light.  Snow falls softly outside, muffling the world, creating a cocoon of peace around us.  We curl up by the fire, wrapped in blankets, sharing stories and dreams.  Hot chocolate, rich and creamy, warms our hands and our hearts.  The silence is filled with unspoken words, a language of love that transcends all others.  Our bond, like the evergreen trees, remains strong and steadfast, enduring the harshest of winters.

And as the seasons turn again, as spring’s first blush returns, I long to walk this path with you once more.  Each bud, each bloom, each ray of sunshine, each falling leaf, each snowflake, a reminder of the beauty we’ve created together.  I want to relive every moment, every touch, every word, every season of our love, again and again, forever.
From my lesson in Picadilly's Write the Poem
Maria Feb 9
I’d like to talk about spring,
About nature’s breathe with fresh
And breezy mornings, sunny days,
About feelings in spring plesh.

I’d like to talk about love,
The one that takes you all, in whole!
It’s in your heart! It is inside!
It makes a magic just for all!

I’d like to talk about myself,
The one that I don’t even know,
About myself with different fate…
But truly, I guess I’d better go.
Maria Feb 8
I’m cold… You think I’m really fluey?
I’m not for sure… Maybe you’re right.
The weather’s nasty by mischance for now.
And I’m not wearing my cozy woolly scarf.

This February snows a lot and rages.
I’d like to wrap in plaid and not to leave.
I know it’s blues. I know for certain, sweetheart.
You shouldn’t get a feel for me. I’m peeve.

The spring will come. There will be a revival
Of new ideas, follies and delight.
And I will rise, I will return, my dear,
Better than previous. I will be vitalized!
nicole Feb 6
1-15-25   3:06pm

january
the month where i start to mourn summer
and forget about the sound of the ocean

birds migrating south
darkness by 5pm
layers upon layers of clothing

but we read more books
and the neighborhood cat seeks solace in your home
snow graces the ground
a contrast between light and dark
life and dormancy

a moment to pause
to release and let go
love
shelter
the promise of spring

a slower life

I guess January isn't so bad after all
Maria Feb 5
What a ridiculous night…
It’s cold.
My body wants love a lot,
It’s bold.
It wants embraces and caresses
Till one drops.
What a ridiculous night…
It’s lachrymose.

What an immoral spring…
It’s obscene.
En masse and at me in whole
It’s too mean.
I thought I could do everything.
I was mistaken.
What an immoral spring…
My pain is untaken.

What an endless year…
It’s torture.
There’s no happiness and pain is
Too often.
I wish I could burn it out
In whole.
What an endless year…
Stop it all!

What a short tiny life…
It’s frustrating.
I thought that everything lies ahead.
And time is unending.
And I can correct everything
And create.
What a short tiny life…
I want it more! Wait!
Mri Feb 5
Today eve is different
Spring makes me overwhelmed.
Sunset is painting the sky with coral red
Clouds giving touch up with heart shape
Some broken, some full
Overcome the past, present to rule.
A sweet, cold breeze runs through me
Taking away all my worry
Fun and joy, want again to be tension-free boy
A new start, this is the life to enjoy.
Embrace the flaw, the moon smiles
The world is mine, and I am free to fly.
Every person have their favourite season, mine is spring which says it's never too late to start again with positivity.
Amir Murtaza Feb 5
In my childhood,
This city embraced me—
Open arms, warm and tender,
Like a lover greeting the beloved.

But now, for years,
It has become a dense jungle of people,
A place where no one speaks,
Where gatherings are no more.
Memories are left untouched,
Unspoken, unshared.

The days slip by—
They end as quickly as they begin.
Was there even an afternoon today?
I can’t recall.

Winter barely departed,
And summer rushed in too soon.
The gentle pause of spring,
Its fleeting beauty,
Seems lost to time.

I stand here, puzzled,
Wondering, searching—
Where has the spring of my city gone?
Zack Feb 4
My face pink with love
The cherry blossoms jealous
You change my seasons
A poem for my Fiance
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