Every year we meet,
Yet you do not look my way.
What wrong have I done to you dear one?
Don't I preserve you?
Winter's kiss may bring the end.
But at the end lies a new beginning.
For something must die, if something new is to be born.
This is the way of Winter.
September brings with her a Spring of colour and hope and joy.
Now I bid you adieu, dear one.
Until we meet again...
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Poetry Collection
PoetryA collection of poems documenting my thoughts, moods and emotions. _____________________ Kindly note: All Rights to Intellectual Property is reserved ® No reproduction of these poems will be tolerated. If you see this poem posted by anyone other th...
