Beauty creeps up and in through the window
everyday she comes to visit

myriad changelings, this time of year
and a stillness after a storm

all a oneness come rain or shine
she taps lightly on the senses

I am here, I am here
she whispers me to sleep.

i have never liked jealous lovers
it's such trivial emotion
since being with you I feel it more
envious of the mundane

the sun that sees you first as you wake
the coffee cup that kisses you good morning
your work colleagues that spends hours with you
a smile, a look, a laugh I've missed
the moon that knows your midnight secrets
your sheets that touch every part of you whilst sleeping

i realise jealously makes me fragile
it means i will tolerate no rivals
it means i'm scared
of the very thought of losing you

If I had to describe
Love as a season
I would like to think
For myself that is
That it would be represented
By winter.
Now I'm not just saying it
For the sake of it
I actually have given this
Much, much thought.
Ok so winters opposite
Would be summer
Alot of people would think
That love is summer
And maybe it is.
Hot nights, midnight adventures
Damp hair and Sandy clothes
Summer bodies and bikini's
And every other summer cliché
You could possibly
Think of.
I just sort of identify summer
As one night stands
Or new
Fresh relationships.
Because it's just a time
When you're absolutely
Carefree.
Or atleast I think it is.
Whereas winter
Is weirdly
More personal.
It's when you're wearing alot of layers
And your hair is always a mess.
Pink tinted cheeks
And hot drinks.
I feel like this is a time
Of the year
When I'm more vulnerable.
For some very odd reason.
It's a time when
You really know
Who the important people are.
It's when you know you'll jump in puddles with them
And freeze your *** of to keep them warm
Or when you have conversations
About stuff that really means something.
It's rain.
And the scent straight after it
Petrichor.
I either feel cozy and warm
Or drenched and miserable
But wanting to be with someone
No matter which way you're feeling
I think that's love.

Sparse rendering of things that you want to say. Ideas translated into pen on paper. Emotions can be rendered but not always. Sometimes speaking with no words is desired. To see the face of the person you wish to speak to, and to let them feel your emotions. Sometimes this is all that is necessary, no long prose is required, no great written script. Only the exchange of what is known but not spoken between two hearts and souls. For sometimes, words are not enough to communicate what you really feel.