The winters that I dreamed of as a kid
Have come back all as one - the world is white.
All sounds are muffled, sharp corners are hid -
Back then, I would have played in it all night.
But I have grown to loathe the ugly stuff;
It's hidden every colour out of sight
Walking in it's slippery and rough
It's cold and wet and oh - the salt's a blight.
I want to stay indoors, green curtains drawn
Until the azure sky and scented breeze
Bring golden daffodils to em'rald lawn
And blushing flowers to the budding trees.
Till ice will melt and birds return to sing,
Till flowers wake and I may dress for spring.
söndag 20 december 2009
Prenumerera på:
Kommentarer till inlägget (Atom)
1 kommentar:
Fancy!
Skicka en kommentar