Winter is a season
With barren limbs
Fallen leaves
Blowing winds
And frozen eaves

Winter is a season
Of greyed out skies
And barely touching suns
Cold, burning eyes
And noses on the run

Winter is a season
Where green and beauty fades
Buried ‘neath a white sheet
And it seems that for an age
Winter is all there is.

But winter is a season.
Seasons always change.
Seasons come and go
Seasons are a phase
Winter is a season.

Winter is a season
One of four, in fact
The other three are green
Winter has an icey grasp
But Spring, summer, fall -

Flowers! Bees! Warm, soft breeze!
Butterflies and normal flies,
Fruit and veggies, rain and shine!
Running, laughing, falling, playing
Kissing, hugging, gasping!

Winter is a season.
Right now I do feel cold.
I feel like I want to stay in bed
Until the day that I grow old
And no longer raise my head.

Winter is a season.
This one seems worse than most.
But if I give up now-
If i choose to let this go-
Then I miss the next.

Winter is this season.
I’ll try to stay warm while it lasts
And maybe share a blanket where I can
But I feel, coming fast,
A fresh new spring to share.

baby blue skies cold
fresh snow covers soft earth
                growth awakening

Seasons change suddenly,
Friendships can fade from spring buds,
To crumbling fall leaves.

People leave, they tend to take the fire with them,
Make sure you keep spare logs hidden,
Sometimes it snows in spring.

Upon Springs hem
    we become
Attuned to the morning
         sparrow melodies
With their sweet honey
chorus
And gems
The canopy
of green leaves
Upon the maple trees
With their quiet majesties
The blooming of roses
Like long lost valentines

It must be sweet to be a gardener
WithIn the hips of Spring
And feel flowers sing

     With all of Loves longing

They are the down to earth
Royalty of petals and beauty

And what they love
         Is what we can love
All the more
In our own unique way
As loves flowers begin again
To sway
What romantics innately love
Like Vineyards to breeze

Even the gardeners
       in the galapagos
Have an array of splendors
       to cultivate
As the lyrical
Is felt with the kisses
Of Moonlight of sweet rain

     And sighs can fly
Way deep down inside
Like things like wings glide
WithIn
With our love
All the way to Moon

Reynaldo Casison