Winter of Winters

Winters were vile,
They were vulgar,
Woeful,
Villainous.

They would wreck my wisdom,
My victories,
And
My vigilance.

They would leave me whimpering,
Wailing,
Without
And within.

I would writhe,
And Wrestle,
But
The worms would not wane.

I would wriggle,
And vomit,
But my wrenching
Would be but worthless.

I would be wretched,
Withheld,
Wishful,
My wishes all valueless.

Winters were wars,
They were wrong,
Vicious,
Wickedness.

These were winters,
Where there were women,
Vaginas,
And Vampires.

***

This winter was white,
It was winsome,
Weird,
Wonderful.

It washed my veils,
My veins,
And
My visage.

It left me willful,
And wanton,
Without
And within.

Now I walk
And wonder
The when
And where of things.

Now I wade
Via winds
That whoosh
Wackily.

Now I am willing,
And weird,
I wear
The vibes of vanity.

It was a winter
Where there were veterans,
And weirdos,
And my well-wishers.

This winter was visible,
It was venal,
Vibrant,
Vivacious.

***

Winters of worries, a winter of vividness.
A winter of vigour, winters of weariness.

A welcome winter, after the winters of weakness.
Winters of virginity, and now a winter of virginness.

Winters of wistfulness, of wastage, voluntary.
A winter of vignettes, of vindication, of virility.

A winter where I won, unlike the winters of virulence,
A winter of voice, after the winters of violence.

Vulnerable, virulent winters,
A violative, violet winter.

Viral, wakeful winters,
A winter of wakefulness.

Winters of the world,
Of walls, of watchfulness.
A winter of my world,
Of vanity, of whappiness.