The sweet scent of love,
Brings with it the hope of life,
As the seasons change,
The scents change too.
Spring promises the perfume of birth,
Of blooming flowers and fruit-laden trees,
Filling the heart with hope,
And nurture growth.
The summer sun smells of sweat,
Sweet are the fruits of labour,
A moonlit beach, a quiet retreat,
Happy to rest, in one’s nest.
The rains come next,
Dark, charged clouds,
Promising a heavy outpour,
The cool rain meets the heated ground,
Evoking the perfume of passion.
Autumn comes; the leaves change colour,
Wrinkle up and fall to the ground,
The squirrels hoard and save,
For the fear of impending winter.
The winter brings with it deep chill,
Darkness, despair and ice,
Freezing the world into immobility,
Life hibernates in steady hope,
“If winter comes, can spring be far behind?”