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Ben Jones
Poems
Apr 2019
Cold Hands
I met her in the winter
Her complexion wore the snow
But frost had settled on her soul
And wouldn't let her go
I took her to the springtime
Where the sun might warm her skin
But the ice had taken hold of her
It lingered deep within
The summer stunned the drying land
Though bore a heavy cost
By autumn she was thinning out
And longing for the frost
The winter brought her life anew
So by the waning light
I vowed to live in wintertime
My warmth, within her sight
**
Written by
Ben Jones
Leeds, UK
(Leeds, UK)
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