An ode to Vanda

Hey there, old friend,
ever the ponderer.
I’ve read your letter;
it is I, your stranger.

I’d say I’m faring
quite fairly well.
And I am, though slowly,
coming out my shell.

It’s still quite chilly
and dark out here.
But dawn is breaking
and spring is near.

Soon I’ll be shedding
these frosty blankets;
and bloom a little
while I get at it.

I’ll cloak my petals
with scarlet dew.
My leaves I’ll paint them
with emerald hues.

I’ll bask in splatters
of golden shavings
and lay in caverns
of frost engravings

I’ll wait for springtime
in blissful tunes
Bathe in warm rays
of summer moons

I hope to see you
before autumn’s over
For winter comes
to mark my slumber

Author: Pandamonium