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Kim Churchill
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Season's Grind
Walking down the street his tempers hot and dry.
He's a sultry man, with a clear blue mind.
As he walks along, people see him, stop, and sigh.
He's a summers day, and holds diamonds in the sky.
It goes on.
She's a called upon in grief and see's the last straight nights.
Her thoughts rust upon the branches falling from their fickle heights.
She holds the beauty of a sunset in her flecked brown eyes.
Buts its lost within the cold that comes to take her in the night.
It goes on.
But as the wind blows though, we all see in time.
Let the tree's bend down to a season's grind.
Its insane to fight a flame in the winter time.
But its a picture for the people, its a poem for their mind.
It goes on.
He's a bitter cold force that fights against the man's mind.
He's the ice that cuts the heart of what makes us feel alive.
He brings the beasts down underground and threatens with the cold night.
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He's the blackest wolf's howl. He's the dirt under the fight.
But as the wind blows though, we all see in time.
Let the tree's bend down to a season's grind.
Its insane to fight a flame in the winter time.
But its a picture for the people, its a poem for their mind.
It goes on.
She awakes upon a world holding on for its life.
With the flowers in hair and the clouds in her mind.
But she's the light that give us hope and moves us on to better times.
She's the spring that takes the sting out of the ice that cuts her mind.
But as the wind blows though, we all see in time.
Let the tree's bend down to a season's grind.
Its insane to fight a flame in the winter time.
But its a picture for the people, its a poem for their mind.
It goes on.
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