Cold winds blow and herald the first taste of spring with the last licks of winter
Like a hit to the face comes angry wind,
Carrying nothing but stories of cold
Where has hidden that warm golden disk?
Only just affore, blossoms came forth in the warm glow
But winter's last touch has left them frozen and scattered
Cold winds chip away at the armour of blossoms enveloping the branches
Both a loving caress of sight and sound and a shield
Climb a bloom and find a piece of peace
Light up a smile with the cold winds licking your pips and promising spring.
I love poetry.