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Oh Winter, I welcome you, Your nippy air, your kindling hues, And the tint they cast on my moods, Oh Winter, if only you knew, The simple pleasures your arrival bears- The precious sleep that only your lullaby brings, The sudden love for rich food you excite, And so many other little 'winter things'- Things like colourful gloves and socks, And poor unsheltered, chilled pink nose tip, And age-old pseudo-smoking out cold breath, And cherry/strawberry/cocoa balms to coat the lips, Doodling a beloved's name on a frosted window, And tugging blanket under toes in bed, snugly, The evening nap feeling more easing than ever, Followed by heavenly gulps of warm milky coffee. Oh Winter, despite, as the time of Separation and Forlornness being ill-famed, Each time you visit, you touch my senses And leave them pleasantly tingling and inflamed. For summer may be bright, sunny and sky-blue, But you can be an enticing dark, a passionate maroon, You mischievous cupid hiding under the garb of cosiness, Refilling hearts with yearnings anew. Welcome, dear Season of Romance, Time to commence the routine all over again, Of you- enthusing me with deep cold-warm sentiments, And me- writing poems celebrating this eternal game.
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Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 3:35 PM UTC
Winter Things
Oh Winter, I welcome you, Your nippy air, your kindling hues, And the tint they cast on my moods, Oh Winter, if only you knew, The simple pleasures your arrival bears- The precious sleep that only your lullaby brings, The sudden love for rich food you excite, And so many other little 'winter things'- Things like colourful gloves and socks, And poor unsheltered, chilled pink nose tip, And age-old pseudo-smoking out cold breath, And cherry/strawberry/cocoa balms to coat the lips, Doodling a beloved's name on a frosted window, And tugging blanket under toes in bed, snugly, The evening nap feeling more easing than ever, Followed by heavenly gulps of warm milky coffee. Oh Winter, despite, as the time of Separation and Forlornness being ill-famed, Each time you visit, you touch my senses And leave them pleasantly tingling and inflamed. For summer may be bright, sunny and sky-blue, But you can be an enticing dark, a passionate maroon, You mischievous cupid hiding under the garb of cosiness, Refilling hearts with yearnings anew. Welcome, dear Season of Romance, Time to commence the routine all over again, Of you- enthusing me with deep cold-warm sentiments, And me- writing poems celebrating this eternal game.
ghazal-tansir
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Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 3:35 PM UTC
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