Now I sprout and grow,Just like the buds of March,Green, pink and purple,I prepare to blossom into colour,Held back only by time,Why must you be like time.
My tears drip like ice cream from the cone,As I sit here all alone,I watch the children play in sand,Wishing I was there again,Playing, carefree with nothing to restrain me,But now I sit here watching,That's all I ever seem to do,Watch the world drift by my eyes,Yet I still feel content inside.
Gently I float down the stream,Carefully, cautiously drifting along,As the world passes my eyes I glide pensively watching,But I am alone,With no purpose,Until I see your eyes, blue as the water I ride,You look at me, I look at you,And then you smile and I stop drifting,I stop along side you filled with a purpose and dedication like no other.Love.
The February rain drip drip drips against the window I look out,As I gaze opon the mist coated garden I think only of my tear coated face,But as if the sky is trying to heal me, the clouds part,The dew is now sun touched and glistening,It is just like my heart now I've left you,Sparkling, changing, growing.
The sudden April heatStretches itselfUnder the smooth, leafless branchesOf the beech-tree.And lies lightlyUpon the great patchesOf purple and white crocusWith their panting, wide-open cups.A clear windSlips through the naked beech boughs.And their shadows scarcely stir.But the pine-trees beyond sighWhen it passes over themAnd presses back their needles,And slides gently down their stems.It is a languor of pale, south-starting sunlight