I could have stood there for hours
listening to the owls love song ring across the barren fields,
but my ears and fingers were freezing.
I tried to rub some warmth back into them,
straining to hear the birds again,
but all was still.
The only sound-the falling snow hitting the firs.
The owls had gone.

What couple danced to this records gay tune?
Who enjoyed this story long a go told?
Two things never stop giving pleasure, they never die
A well told tale, igniting our imagination.
A tune of beautiful composition, evoking emotion.

She paints the walls
creating a clean canvas for her thoughts.
Words slip through her mind
she reaches, they elude her
Her train of thought is gone
Left with nothing but the feeling
of something dear, now lost.
She waits...
for the words to flock again.
Flooding her mind like a murmuration
crowding to overflow her pen
and spill onto the paper.