“Weather Patterns!”

“The sun comes up,

As a fruit of love,

Delight, naught decay.

Frost chirps when,

The winds are flying,

Amidst the chill and shiver.

Children play,

Wear the woollen dresses,

As the morning stems;

So does their excitement.

Lingers the atmosphere,

Of shower and fruitfulness,

As the winds of cold;

Get a hand of the warm sun breeze.

Rooms get aquainted with,

Warmer blankets;

Bonfires are but blistened,

Affectionately.

Coldness pervades and dances with hotness,

The dreams calligraph and become of poetry.

Life shines, as paleness distinguishes,

Only to reappear as warmness,

As the winter conglomerates,

Us; the warmer beings.

Such is the portrayal of such an environment,

When our solitude gets a name and alike, a companion.

It's related with life,

The so called months and weather patterns that develop.

Charm formulates as do the streams,

Of understandings;

As December enters and November plans,

The dream.”