The soft winds and fluffly snow has ceased, and we are left with a hard cold Canadian winter. With tempatures well below freezing and salt cover roads it gives me another reason why i don't want to go to school. Can i stay? Sit home and sip tea all day? Do i have to leave? But the comfort i find in only my dreams. It's cold and it's blustery, yet we all will survive on the single hope, a thread, the promise of sping. My question remains, who will keep me warm on the coldest of night? who will reach over and turn out the light? Fur lined coats, and mitten and scarfs, they hardly stand up the the firing wind and snow in my eyes. Yet I love the winter, and change it, i wouldn't. The times of beauty, purity and innocence, at least untill the plow passes and then we are left with a rough path, a means of escape. Do i want it? never, but i take my leave.
To the boy who see my heart
to the boy who reads my rhymes
if i leave to you,
will you return
if a number, will you use.
"my heart is an empty room"
a lyric, a song,
a question to you.
who is the boy who has seen my lines?
who is the boy who understands the rhyms?
1 comment:
Such blustery days and long chilly nights are meant for but one thing:
long conversations cuddled together
beside the warm glow of a fire whilst the snow falls outside the window.
Who am I that I should be
The one to ruin such mystery
Truth be told a certain boy lies
Beneath the stars in more southern skies
Where numbers fall
Useless all
But love can always reach him
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