Hour With You~
I take a seat in
front of my window,
Observing the drops of rain,
Solidifying into flakes of snow,
Creating a veil edging my windowpane.
The earthen milieu redesigned,
Whilst Mother Nature sleeps,
Swathed in a blanket of dreams,
Secreted away in a winter haven.
While gusts of wind are felt passing through me,
To the core within the province of thine own
Winter speaks to me with her cold breath,
Sending messages I can’t hear let alone see,
Obscuring an interlude of what may be,
I manage to endure the stinging artic air,
Looking out my window from within,
Not to feel warmth until winter ends.
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Music: "Color My
Bob Mace Midi Page
Sequenced By Bob Mace
Used With Permission