Amy 3
Each stem shall once again renew
to drive a bloom from icy thrall,
and always shall I think of you
when looking at that flower small,
which breaks the unforgiving earth
of Winter and his deadly spell;
his curse a wretched hurtful dearth
of joy and love from frozen Hell.
All hope is cradled by the Spring,
and in her warm enticing air
a life that shall by budding bring
shall bring a beauty wild and rare.
Always I see a blossom new
whenever I envision you.
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