WHITE BLANKET

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Look to the glowing skies,

Magic before my eyes.

Snow flutters to the ground

Without even a sound.

Masking the dirt with white,

So pretty and so bright.

I hope it can remain this way,

A blanket for one more day.

 

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A DEAFENING SILENCE

 

 

Desolate.

Alone.

Empty.

No neighbors.

The wind rattles my walls.

Snow layers my roof.

No peace.

Cold.

Icicles hang low.

A deafening silence.

Will winter end?

Will the horses return?

I wait and hope.

I WELCOME THEE

 

 

Clean me.

Snow on me.

Wet my hair.

Fall on my eyelids.

Drench my body.

Whiten the streets.

I welcome thee

into my heart and soul.

WALK THE NIGHT

plasmatics-life Deactivated
NIGHT WALK

Night Walk – {by Tiina Törmänen} | {Official WebSite}

 

 

Walk the night.

The cold wraps you in a cocoon

filled with the fresh scent of snowfall.

Listen as the snow falls.

It brushes the ground and branches

with a white brushstroke against a dark canvas.

Look to the twinkling stars.

Bright spots dodge grey clouds

to peek at the dusted ground below.

Snowflakes mist your hair

and land on your tongue.

Take a deep breath.

Engage your senses.

Walk the night.

 

FOOTSTEPS IN THE SAND

 

I sink with each step
closer to the blue.
The waves tease and spray
and prompt me to play.

But my world is dark and bleak,
and I cannot fall asleep.
I gaze through my window
to the snow-laden bough. 

I sigh and shut my eyes tight,
seeking paradise this night.
I get sleepy and go back in time
to the sand and the footsteps of mine.

IT’S THE SEASON

 

 

IT’S THE SEASON

The petals fall fast and furious.

The bare trees watch the fallen.

Limbs shivering in the coming cold.

Pink tears of surrender coat the ground.

As seasons come and go.

Yearning for their lost children.

They lift scraggly arms to the sky.

Prayers will soon be answered,

As seasons come and go.

Coats of white land on their branches.

Night falling all too soon.

Shivers dislodge the packed ice.

Leaving them bare once again.

They lift weary eyes to the sky.

As seasons come and go.

A warm wind caresses their arms.

Eyes open to sprouting buds.

Green and pink sweaters for spring.

Their children have returned.

As seasons come and go.

 

MURDERS AND LOVERS

 

 

Read a book by the warm fire.

Moments can’t get any brighter.

Let the snow fall outside.

I will keep warm inside.

No need to fight the drifts.

I’ll stay with the misfits.

The ones who prefer books

that grab you with their hooks.

The fire is getting low.

The winds are about to blow.

I snuggled further beneath the covers

as I read about murders and lovers.