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Literature Text
I long for the yellows
losing myself in a mustard meadow
a patch of gold in the natural quilt
strewn over the hills
an ocean of carefree memories
no worry of mudstained jeans
or wind-mussed hair
chasing the start of something new,
something as beautiful
as weeds growing in a sun-washed field.
I miss the whites
being invigorated by paper-white,
paper-thin petals
fragile messengers brightening
frosted mornings
aromas of ice-flowers that warm a static home
fresh laundry and strong coffee
the smoke of a wood burning stove
the arrival of sun as a new day begins
I desire the pinks
the hearts blooming on bare branches
a romantic snowfall blanket
as individual petals float down
with the grace of dainty dancers
a table of tea
guests dressed in lace
lullabies of love and light kisses
sprinkled on flushed cheeks
beneath forgotten trees
holding the buds of abandoned dreams
I need the greens
the light tinge that deepens
a combination of sun and showers
an earthy rebirth
erasing harsh mistakes of the cold
I want my Spring back
my pallet of colors
mixed and blackened
along with new beginnings
that are continually lost
with seasonal changes.
© 2013 - 2024 cowboyB0B
Comments2
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This is just so beautiful, both the subject matter, and the way you've conveyed the longing for Spring! 