Nomad Writer

I yearn for…
Spring’s elusive caress –
Balsam of her tender palms –
To soothe the
Frosted scabs and scars
Scourging fissures deep
Through exposed flesh
Unable to endure
Winter’s crude affection

I long for…
The sun’s elixir
Honeysuckle kissing
At my lips
Melting on
My tongue
As abundant rays
Like cloaks of golden silk
Wrap around me
Fragrant with the dew
Plum and cherry blossom
Infused

For these barren nights
Callous and ungiving
Remind me too much
Of your absent warmth
That once enfolded me
With a bones-deep comfort
So let the Spring come
With her fanciful gait
Ushering winter
Through Autumn’s backdoor