Sonnet #1

Sonnet 1

Like the leaves are in Autumn so am I
Pining for warmth, knowing not the cold's why.
Falling in a harsh breeze zipping downward
For her in my yearning.  My dream then marred.
The crystalline tears of winter mourning
The barren tree is lonesome left waiting.
Stripped of its beauty by her distance; 
The leaves all fallen dead as evidence.
Until the return of the pleasant warmth
Did animate the world by way of tilth.
Deathly desolation then gave way to
Gorgeous greenry foretelling life anew.
As her warmth grows greater my spirit swells.
At season's change, though, do rest more cold spells.