Winter softly enters, frosting up my windows, While cold winds enter through the bottom of my door. I recall the warmth of all my different summers Was changed by the dampness of my lonely floor.
Will she ever return to walk on it once more?
I often wonder why winter still is calling Telling me that each year will always be the same And I should forget the warmth and hope of summer That came to me each time I whispered her first name –
I wonder now: is it true she really came?
All my dreams, like autumn leaves, begin to fall. The ground I walk upon is very cold and bare, And my arms, like branches of the tree, are empty. The only touch that I now feel is empty air.
I ask myself: Has she changed? Does she still care?
~
Icy
The cold icy forgotten dreams of yesterday Cover the ground in December. Frozen footsteps of the past to remember; Dying softly in December.
Approaching light of new year. Expectations for tomorrow!
The cold icy Forgotten dreams of yesterday Cover the ground in January.
