Home is where the Hearth is
Three degrees
minus wind chill factor
and no boyfriend to keep me warm
My ears quiver
at each whisper of the frost
My feet leave the sleet
with soft, wet kisses
My nose leads the way
home,
where the hearth is ...
Labels: poetry
4 Comments:
No one to fight your ways
No one to question your ways
No one to ridicule your style
Three degrees below freezing
No time better to fall in love
Once again with that loving hot choclate.
I second Max's comment - do post the experimental script-story! It was very nice...
Brr. Nice. Loved the sounds you evoked.
Sreekesh, lovely compliment to my poem.
Thanks Max, Geets and Zig
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