the cold wind still blows,
though the season bears spring's name;
so if i seem 'not so pleasant',
the wind is to blame.

pale buds that now blossom
will themselves be lost,
when warm days refrain,
returning the frost.

the cold makes me tired,
i burrow away.
cold bones rattle on
til another warm day.

i'd like to sail away,
would you like to come too?
where white clouds drift along
on oceans of blue.

the wind in my hair,
my complexion sun-kissed,
my features glisten with sweat
and soft ocean mist.

island fruits and white ginger
permeate the air;
moist kisses on my neck
and your fingers in my hair.

down the small of my back,
your hands rest on my hips.
your kiss draws the soft, warm breath
from my lips.

thoughts of you keep me warm,
in my own special way,
while cold bones rattle on
til another warm day.