The Ink Poem by Natasha Sharma

The ink that traced my fondest thought,
And carved in words what my lips said not;
Lay frozen in the winter snow,
My feelings ran wild, but none were caught.

Then, with the Spring, you came along,
My heart and ink melted into a song;
Words found life like the lost leaves,
Nothing at that moment could have gone wrong!

Alas, the season flew by so fast,
You drew the curtains and fell into past;
Though I still see a glimpse of you,
In the treasures that my dear ink cast.