Will the notification of sun
be the early morning birdsong
or the sound of your breathing
as you lie warm in your dreams?
Speak now of spring
and let all that went before
be lost in myth and shadow.
Winters ice has no hold on us, my love,
speak now of spring
and I will be yours.
Each word tattooed across your face,
writ in years and wind.
Grace and wildness are in your touch
and your hands speak of your travels.
Leave no more, my dear one,
and stay with me til spring returns.
Rest your head and love me
for I am yours again.
Speak now of spring.
thecourseofourseasons 
… lays just under a thick layer of frost… Happy New Year
Thank you so much for all of the beauty you have created, captured and shared this year. I wish you all the best in 2015. Catherine
Oh yes, speak to me of spring! With the increasing daylight, hope springs once again……..this is the most beautiful love poem. I especially love “Grace and wildness are in your touch”…….and “each year writ in years and wind”. Wow!
On a physical level, I’m not quite ready to think of spring yet – winter is still arriving!
Metaphorically, you inspire hope and peace in my soul.
I wish the same for you. Happy New Year!
Nancy