Cold air rush over my skin, The evidence of its presence, A trail of upright hairs, As the effect ripples from within. And yet, there is one, To place his warmth over me, So that I would feel content. Breeze blowing through my hair, Uplifting as many strands as it can, And gently putting it down again. And yet there is one, To tell me, that my beauty was enhanced, As he glanced over at me, Secretly, hoping that I wouldn’t notice. Gentle drops of rain, Sprinkle from heaven’s door, Twinkle on my eyelashes. And there is one to brush it away, As slowly as possible, As gently as a feather, Just so he can spend a few seconds, So closely together, As he whispers that he wish, These seconds could last forever… Sounds like the arrival of my kind of weather.