Seasons Scream

When the first rays of her sunlight fingers,

Brushed against my frozen hands,

I felt blushing roses on my cheeks.

Gardens growing in her flirting streaks.

I felt her loving Spring thaw the ice,

Grass sprouting from forgotten wounds,

I felt old butterflies fluttering again,

In my stomach, as feelings bloomed.

These feelings flared in hurricane flames,

As passion fueled these embers,

Summer lights burn the green off grass,

As wildfires burn us tender.

She saw my darkness in these beams,

And her feelings refused to stay,

Like colors on once evergreen leaves,

As Autumn steals them away.

I thought I’d remain unmoving and firm,

Like trees that duel blizzard anger,

But I was torn from her open branches,

Like the last few frozen leaves,

Succumbing to Winter’s answer.

By Sharaf Momen


One thought on “Seasons Scream

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  1. Beautiful! The final line reminds me of the great British Romantic poet Shelley – “Oh wind, if winter comes, can Spring be far behind?”. You really have captured the style and mood of romantic poetry perfectly – I can imagine you are blending classical Bengal poetry in here too!


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