I shall not look past Winter.
Despite the forgetful frost,
Something fertile lies,
Coiled buried beneath.
I shall suffer the sacrifice
and savor the sweetness
Life is a stand up clock –
Where spring like emotions force
the gears upon gears
Of the human spirit to move in precision.
A strong Oak-like shell stands
hiding the tender energy within.
A face that projects only time.
poem based on Anthony Burgess “A Clock-Work Orange”