The bees fly through the fields
the birds alight in the trees
with the displaced at the gate
looking at the verdant scene
the time of year is firmly fixed
upon the dial at warm seasons
without admission of the rest
leading up to winter's breath
delightful colors on petals' limbs
only feel the sunny heat
the orb above favors them
providing homage to its kin
still the chill is realized
beyond the spread of flower's realm
asking those who stand outside
to know they'll never feel the warmth
this envied corner of the bees
denies the company of the gray
longing for the honeyed fields
now only feel a deep dismay
frosty drifts from snowy peaks
causing trees to shrug their leaves
an icy realm beyond the gate
with full sight of the spring.
© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.20190111.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautifully crafted wonderful poem, Sean..................10++++++++++++++