The Coming of Winter

 

Will you stay, ‘oh plump and hearty Spring?’

Be a gentleman and drive him away,

just like he forced the old gypsy man away

from his dreams,

and the ocean rolling on his stomach with a

breathless hush.

He is the savage of the seasons’

that makes soup go cold

and the sun shiver.

He is no sweetheart of the sun,

for there are no flowers,’ fruits or butterfl

ies.

As long as he is in control, he is at peace,

that wears seasons’ fame like a white velvet

coat

his breast protected forever.

 

Written by N. J. Storm