Thursday, December 29, 2005

a gift never present

Icicled tears of frost bitten pain
The gentle years have passed me by

Enchanted memories with windswept fury
A chill now sits upon past warmth
Merriment is viewed through windows’ pane

Never has a way of sticking around too long

Hands clasped in firm regard,
Once opened to receive
Time ravaged hope engages futility
Entranced I stare through windows, pain

Love seems a gift always under someone else’s tree.


- J.G.Smith (12/29/05)

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