Seasons

I cry when she is a winter, she heats up the snow.
I cry when she is a summer, she breezes the world.
I can not make a choice...on when she shines the most.
Is it on pale snow?
Or in hot brazing heat?
Perhaps when there is a wind? Maybe when it brazes, is she the loveliest then?
I cry when she is a spring, her beauty regain.
I cry when she is an autumn, she pales to regrow.
A choice is to be made,
for upon all seasons I love my lady the best.
Whether in the rain, whether in the heat
even when its windy.... I worship her beauty.
So matter the space not the time?
I cry for her loveliness to be immortalize
I cry while she is alive for when the time is to come...
when she is all dead and gone, her soul will burn no more.
No beauty, no love.
Not more worship of my one true love.
Mirrow.
Jamie P. Blaze
2009 Seasons-