Turned the trees to stone
And the land was naked
And the ponds were cold,
Barely could the dryads
Slip from tree to tree
In the wistful, haunting song
Of winter...
I looked into her face
And our breath met,
A charade of words
And I longed to forget
The tree on tree that
Stretched away
And charmed the mind to sleep.
But then with one toss
Of her amber hair
Sunlight returned
And by her chair
Cold flowers were placed.
Gone was the shadow
Across my mind
And I was alone
In summertime.