The white soft pellets falling gracefully,
Warm air eloping with the breeze.
Every hole shut in,mountains capped white.
Its another winter,holidays at last.
Even though a realist or blood spartan,
Or maybe lifeless from unrest,
There is always that season of light ,
When nature demands with certain fright.
Always a change of clothes,wigs and furry coats,
A change of scenery for mood and heart.
The weak move to the coast,warmer and a bit closed,
Dreamers stay in with the old tenderly starting to freeze.
Tables are turned and principles flushed,
The heart speaks out,the mind devoured.
Being as strong as the snow blizzard before the morn,
For thee and for her,to be or not to be.
I have lived to see quite a few,
Some heavy,some quite flamboyant and true.
I cant say the love bug has bitten me,
Not that i’d mind ,i wouldn’t mind the prick,
It’s the love,the life and the winter of the ravine,
Or just the heart,pierced within,
Killing sweetly,so sweetly i can taste it.
Tis fate to conceive to destiny.