The first frost came
When I was very young
Naive in the ways of men
It set in my soul
Cold winds
Sharp as razors
Through my tender heart did blow

Second came the  frost
Which almost took my life
For in love I was deeply
Deaf
Without sight
Unaware his affection was a lie
The frost arrived without warning
Tears of ice I cried
My soul deep in mourning

The last warm piece of heart
My beloved
My soul
Before he could take my hand
Called to Gods house
In the chritian religion of man
The cold deepened beyond depth
This was the third
This was the last


Now my heart is a sculpture of ice
So follows is my unique and lonely life
I have little tolerance for love
Its accumlative loss
So in my future
There will be no more frost


This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3),Tammy M. Darby