PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My eyes miss

the vibrant wild flowers

that grew along this path.



Their crimson,

blue and phalo green

are no longer visible

in the winter landscape.



It’s pristine white coldness

and dark burnt seines

of the bare trees rough bark.

Are the only colors present.



But these colors are only hiding,

Till again, in the spring

They are awakened

By the warm kiss

Of the sun.