Seasons Of Our Love. Poem by Jojoba Mansell

When spring has dressed the trees with bud,
lambs gambling upon the hill.
I’ll run to you with open heart,
surrender to loves will.

When swallows dance upon the wing,
golden corn waving in the field.
I shall return to your arms again,
and to our love I’ll yield.

As autumn leaves are shed like tears,
and the conkers start to fall.
I’ll kiss your lips, hold you tight,
and you shall have my all.

But for now in winters grasp,
I will wait and bide my time.
For now patience is my watchword,
but soon you shall be mine.