The Mistress of Word Play

These days I feel as cold and distant
as the flowers which lie beneath the snow.
Through the chaos of life I crawl and
breathe the stagnant air; foul winds do blow.

The sunlight which once did kiss
the softness and sweetness of my gentle hair
has fled I fear for parts unknown,
has taken the beauty we once did share.

Now the sky once filled with sunlight,
turns a limpid shade of oppressive gray.
Colder winds do blow across the plain
and the lawn once green is barren clay.

A feeling so resentful does weigh heavy
and it is hard to shake the dark depression.
I remember fleeting moments in warmth
these things have become my one obsession.

Will I survive this barren enemy so cold
I watch as winter ever threatening does approach.
Desolate, bereft of laughter and warmth
as this cruel new season does encroach.

Huddled here within the confines
of the prison the safety of my home.
I am trapped till winter has the grace
to some other area of the world to roam.

The sight of my garden stripped
of all the beauty of the season before
Makes me curse the elements
makes me hate the winter even more.

I am here staring dispassionately
out of the cold hard glass called yesterday
fighting the depression winter brings,
dreaming of summer before she went away.