when the lake lay still in an ice bound sleep.
Cold were her lips but promising fire
as the snowdrop brings hope of bright roses.
I kissed her lips on that sun swept day
while young clouds moved slow on paths of blue.
How soft were those lips and warmed by love
as her face met mine in a butterfly touch.
I kissed her lips on that autumn day
as dead leaves swept by in a dance of red.
How sweet those lips in the chastening wind,
stilling false fears in the day’s drear dusk.
I kissed her lips in that storm’s grim heart
while ragged clouds closed the sun’s pale eye.
A swift year has passed into remembrance.
But each stored kiss shall hasten the spring.