The winter voice (Poem)

I see the flowers, the grass, the crops, the birds, the tress.
I feel the wind, the warmth, the love, the good, the breeze.
I sense the beauty, the colors, the array, the perfection, the brilliance!
'Spring', they call it. Thanks to the creator.
"You beauty", I say
not only for the enthralling spring,
but for YOU
your beauty, your perfection, your brilliance.
The way how the creator chose every bit of you,
and assembled them to something as gorgeous as the landscape view.
BUT YOUR VOICE CONTINUES TO DISAPPOINT ME.

Wrath of winter strikes in,
until the touch of spring brings in the love.
"You're the cause of my happiness", says the cheerful dove.
Flowers bloom, colors rise, melody booms.
"You delight", I say,
not for the bliss of spring's crew
but after the wrath upon me,
the happiness I felt on the first look of you.
BUT YOUR VOICE STILL CONTINUES TO DISAPPOINT ME.

You're the warmth of spring,
yet the cold of winter.
You're 17 muscles up,
but you're 43 muscles down.
You're the jolly wealthy man,
but you're adversity within the clown.
You're the green spring leaf
but there's autumn to it someday.
You're a smile on someone's face,
and a relief for someone's heart for a day.
And your voice continues to disappoint me.

Still I wrote this poem,
hoping that someday one of my readers would tell you,
that in the mist of your unknowns,
there's a little girl who still writes you
and despite your winter voice,
here's me, waiting for the spring in you!