My Spring You Are (Sonnet #153) Poem by Tina Baaklini

If people were seasons, you are my spring;
I dread the cold winter type with grey sky,
Autumn folks vanish when we face harsh winds;
Friendly summer is the flock with whom we fly.

But only you can touch my soul with ease,
On green grass I tread when you take my hand;
Your tender words enter my heart as breeze,
In all circumstance, with me you stand.

Till my last breath my heart will beat for you.
A divine prize you are, a precious bliss.
In your eyes I see heaven and skies so blue;
The cure of my blues is your tender kiss.

In spring, woods are reborn with flowers' scent;
In such beauty my heart was reborn in your hands.

Copyright ©️ Tina Rizk