Treasure Island

Altair Laahad


It's Spring


and Vivaldi's fiddle
in brightest movement goes crescendo,
north winds whisper in diminuendo;
Your eyes and ears,
caught amid the silent fight.
While your skin emancipated
of freezing blankets and cold air,
fearing the coming heat
and south winds crawl
in despair,
to grab and kiss that same soft skin

Submitted: Monday, April 15, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, April 16, 2013

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Comments about this poem (It's Spring by Altair Laahad )

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  • Poetheart Morgan (4/16/2013 11:32:00 AM)

    The spring is the best season when the heat hold us and kisses us. All cold in your heart goes away. Sustain your heart warmn Poet. (Report) Reply

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