It is the sensuous lure of Spring,
fickle in her pleasure taking,
that pushes the magnolia –
laden warm wafts of Summer
at you. Only to let them ebb
as the cooling stream of Winter’s
Favourite, violet, trickles over you.
a pulsating, yet languorous tease,
the spray of Summer’s surf
dousing the chill undercurrents
of Winter. Ebb and flow,
Waft and trickle, Summer’s
Pleasure, Winter’s sleep, promises
and memories hang
from Spring’s willowy tendrils.
No comments:
Post a Comment