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
