"I've never learned to play the pipes", you said.
"It's so easy, here, let Me show you."
Suddenly shy as you smiled and tipped your head;
It's been a little while for Me, too.

I cleaned the dust from them, and placed them in your grasp,
Showed you how to hold them right,
Giggled as you blew the most discordant rasp.
You blushed so sweetly, and your eyes shone bright.

I dabbed at your chin, as you slowly got the knack.
You played happily a while,
I watched you as you arched your back,
And closed your eyes, with a fluttering smile.

My own voice rose, to join your tune,
A soft harmony, weaving amongst, interlaced,
Smooth as silk, light as the moon,
Wrapped in each other, our notes embraced.

Your breath rose and fell, short and sharp and yet
Steady, caressing the reed tenderly,
A slow fade, eyes suddenly wide as they met,
Before you handed My pipes back to Me.

Nestled under My arm once again, you sighed:
"It's spring." I whispered back, "I know."
We cuddled close, watching the clearing blue sky,
Silently bidding goodbye to the snow.

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Valnuary, in the year 370 AF.