Spring Poem by LeeAnn Azzopardi

Spring, when will you come?
When will you be the end of death
Known as winter?
It's too cold outside to do anything
And everything is dead
Spring when will you become summer?
When the trees sway with its leaves so soft and green
In the southwest wind
The breeze is drying my tears
As the warmth runs through my body
The gentle patter of the rain cool it off
Leaving me blessed for another day
Until autumn arrives once more
Killing for its harsh friend, winter
I wish you would be stopping
The sands of time in its mist