This is the first poem I have written in months, and I really need feedback, particularly on the structure!
In the summer, my hair would go strawberry blonde,
my eyes a milky blue.
I would wear long, flowing dresses,
and put flowers in my hair.
I would talk to the trees,
Like old friends I never had.
And run through the forests,
smiling at the birds and the bees.
In the summer I could breathe,
and listen to The Smiths as I sat and wrote stories,
from dusk until dawn.
But come winter, my hair would darken,
and my eyes would fade.
The flowers would shrivel up and die,
Like the ideas I left behind.
My smile stayed in the forest,
and remained there until the sun came out again.
The only laughter you could hear in winter
were the distant and secluded echoes of summer.