For my favourite season...
Hello there, old friend… yes I’m sure we’ve met before.
Your sunlight warmed my face before.
Where have you been? They said you were dead.
Were you hiding?
Were those your sleepy eyes that crept out from under the blanket of ice?
Was it you who secretly incubated this year’s young
Whilst the world outside froze and died?
They sent you into exile, didn’t they?
They forced your warmth and bright colours into hiding,
The land now favouring a thousand shades of blue and white
As your evil sibling wreaked havoc upon it.
But you have returned - you have reclaimed your throne; you always do.
You called upon your armies of daffodils and snowdrops,
And green buds like bullets hanging in the air,
And executed the revolution upon your tyrannical brother beautifully,
Just like you always do.
Welcome back, old friend.