Fingers numb, struck dumb by the wind carrying your voice away.
Woolen scarves, cinnamon and apples,
Lights and snowflakes on your eyelashes.
Accordion players on the streets
Wrapped in a blanket, freezing for a couple euro,
Playing a song we all know. Your fingers
clasped around mine
Guiding me to a place in your heart,
A place you were too afraid to show
But a place you knew you’d go with me, only me
From the very start.
A frozen lake, with a dancing fire in the centre
Reflected from a cozy room of an apartment up above.
There’s wine and romance in your eyes as you look at me
Directly in mine. La Mer swimming in your mind
And an open bottle placed on the side
Of a piano lit by the moonlight.
Jazz players beneath the iced window
Playing through the night.
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
Fingers numb, struck dumb by the wind carrying your voice away.
Woolen scarves, cinnamon and apples,
Lights and snowflakes on your eyelashes.
Accordion players on the streets
Wrapped in a blanket, freezing for a couple euro,
Playing a song we all know. Your fingers
clasped around mine
Guiding me to a place in your heart,
A place you were too afraid to show
But a place you knew you’d go with me, only me
From the very start.
A frozen lake, with a dancing fire in the centre
Reflected from a cozy room of an apartment up above.
There’s wine and romance in your eyes as you look at me
Directly in mine. La Mer swimming in your mind
And an open bottle placed on the side
Of a piano lit by the moonlight.
Jazz players beneath the iced window
Playing through the night.
Request permission to use this poem