Through the year

Snow on the blossom
The fruit that will never be
Is food for my eyes

Teasing with promise
Luring warmth, then blowing cold
Flirting spurts of Spring

Waft in my window
You blossom scents of springtime
The poor man's  pot-pourri.

The brighter sun shows
All the grime on my windows
You know what follows

Fall now you shadows
Kiss the whispering silk gown
Too short summer night

The hand of Autumn
Tapping at my windowpane
Spatter of the rain

Rain soaked sodden ground
Fields have turned to fjords around
Down pours drumming sound