In this season's dark ashes
Embers flicker.
Something stirs in cold womb of winter.
For when the primrose sun blossoms,
All will grow sweeter.
For spring is born through the bonny legs of winter.
Fragile, beautiful and new,
Frosts thaws to dew.
The morning suckles the warm sun and grows into the day.
The season becomes strong and beautiful in the bloom of May.

And after the flickering flame of spring has grown,
The mornings emerge as red and bright
As the burning edge of hot coal.
And summer rides on a calm sea breeze,
A fishing boat of hope,
On a sapphire sea.
And when the hot lips of the sun blow a kiss
Dancing diamonds sparkle
As they pirouette.

The days ripen in the dandelion sun,
Hot as the backs that bask all day long,
And as the sun sets on summer,
It draws its last breath.
For golden apples of September,
Is the beginning of a beautiful death.

And as the green in the leaves fades away,
A sunset of colours runs in the veins,
And forest floors grow crisp,
Kissed with crushed crystal lips.
The cold mornings crunch under feet,
And the air holds my breath like a mist.
The light is bright but the warmth is gone,
The days are short and the shadows long.
And then light falls like the last leaf of December,
The sun sinks away like a fading red ember.
As the golden light slips through the bare fingers of winter,
The night digs in like a sharp wooden splinter.
The rain is cold, and the wind is cruel,
But spring waits deep in winter's womb.

---

Golden days
Take me away to those golden days,
Of ice creams and dreams, sandcastles and games.
Lay me down on strands of green grass,
Where dragonflies fly and grasshoppers dance.
Lower me into water so cool,
So clear and so blue.
Take me back to those golden days,
When I first felt that breeze and watched those waves.