Where once she was a bare tree
With nothing but a few falling leaves
In the coldest of Winters.
With grey clouds looming above
And not even a glimpse of blue,
The rain poured,
Hail pattered
And lightning struck.
Floods leaving nothing but
Destruction in its path.
She shivered by a fire
That refused to light
Waiting for the storm to pass.
For she knew that soon.
The clouds would part
And the greys would turn to blue.
The bare tree
Would grow fresh leaves,
Lush, and green, and new.
Her garden became riddled
With flowers of every colour
Size and scent.
The sun soaked into every inch of her skin
Finally in a state of content.
All around her were new signs of life,
As butterflies and birds spread their wings.
Where once she had been the coldest Winter,
She was now the most beautiful Spring.
Lauren Kathleen 