Chance to dream.

Love may leave a season waiting,  for the chance to dream and change,

but love is mostly all the thing's we recall as strange,

Unexpected love like seasons,  renew hope like untouched leaves, 

And finds itself another reason to bloosom like the spring believes, 

so chances are the seasons come, and place themselves before one's heart,

And when it's time for love to grow another season starts,

And so the same with loves desire,  to stay or part in the process of time,

Seasons have their own agenda, and so do words of rhyme.