Winter hangs with an icy grip
on the crisp edges of November,
waiting to drop in
with the howling shrieks
of the north winds fury.
Its chilly glare haunts you
when a frigid breeze
disrupts the leaves of October.
It longs to bed us down
in white blankets,
a hyper-nation of shivering souls,
enslaved in ice castles
as we light burnt offerings
to its vast powers.
But there is something to be said
for the warm comfort of
lovers snuggling
as the world is buried
in a crystalized tomb.
It is a quiet place,
muffled by the frozen
condensation of noise.
Endless splendor lies untouched–
diamond studded in the
seldom seen, bedazzling sun.
The crunch of four feet,
tempting its bite,
plus two hands sharing fingers
create the music of love.
Each brittle note thaws
melting with delight
in souls who find
contentment
in winter’s charms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Leadaches
