Winter’s Blows

Dressed in green attires they came, fresh from spring
Outstretched arms embraced me without discrimination

Cooling my forehead, restoring my calmness with songs

A newcomer in their compassionately fertile midst

Such hospitality would have made any mother proud

Tenderness glowed like fire’s love in me, affection radiated

Allowing life to be lived leisurely against the sun’s

Searing death, protected from neighborly telescopes

Eyes’ zooming intrusive lenses of inquisitiveness

Nature robs them boldly, exposed to cruel freezer limbs

Come naked, stripped, a victim of nature’s calendar

No fault of theirs, this inhospitability, frigid gasps from winter’s

Blows through paper-thin ribs and chest

They look helplessly at me, a willing recipient of tenderly

Love, a reluctant giver of tenderly love

How can I help them, victims of nature’s unransomed hostage?

My arms too short for a maternal protective shield

They have received such cruelty

Such subjection bleeds my heart

©2010FrancesOhanenye

--My dream has loved paper so much for so long because it gave influence to the parched voice of a fashionista poet. Finding this outlet, that voice is now replete with expressive sound.