Seasons of the heart

 This strange night sings,
The seasons of my heart,
In a naughty tone-
that teases for all I'd mourned.
And while her song mocks,
My eyes look around to hide,
In this summer moonlight,
But laugh in hindsight.
Not anymore,
Will I reminisce those nights,
Of two drenched faces,
Drying before the fire's light.
And never again the gloom,
In the monsoon of the heart,
Now those have passed-
for the spring,
That I desire lasts,
With the warmth it brings.