Flame tongues ravages wood, licking till its black splints A mug of cocoa caresses my palms and my lap became a coaster Every sip leaves me feeling toasty My forehead rests upon the glass console by Frost's lips
Jack's designs were of floral mandalas Soft as clouds, gentle flakes Each made with love for no design ever the same I admire as they rain, I imagine that they whisper secrets as they fall Giggling so softly yet as pure as a baby's laugh Coating all that is viridian in a shawl of white
Untouched Unmarred Cool yet so crisp Beckoning for all to come out in a rush For snowmen to be built, for snowballs to take flight We would never feel your cold touch because the warmth you give keeps us as one
Seeping down to our laughs, You keep us close to our inner child Nostalgia rests upon my lips And greater still Are these tender moments of unity Upon my window sill
Getting into the festive spirit is easier said than done And understandably so with 2020. Just something I wrote while on my window sill. It's rather cold, but I'm warmed by just letting my imagination run wild and thinking back to the days where I would just stare at the window and look at the undisturbed snow. Something about seeing a fresh coat of snow leaves me so mesmerised. Any who, I wish all of my fellow poets from all over the world a lovely Christmas. May you all stay safe and well! I think I'm going to keep staring at my quiet neighbourhood for a while and wait for the stars to appear. Be safe out there all. Much love and air hugs, Lyn x