- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Coldest Season
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Inspiration comes, Inspiration goes
Where it leads next, No one really knows
There will be many turns, To keep me on my toes
I make sure my ducks are in pretty rows
Seen by few, see I choose limit to those
Again my past surfaces in hopes to close
So why do I wallow in my lowest Lows
My body bruised from all the Blows
The frost of fall begins to enclose
Until the inevitable decay starts to show
Beauty now buried under a blanket snow
It isn't my season, too cold to expose
So i paint it with my Pen and Prose
For the spring should thaw all that it froze
The first glimpse of fruit forbiddenly grows
Soon summer's bounty reveals a delicate Rose
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