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Waiting for winter
 
Waiting for winter
Is like waiting for a transient prince
A temporary spiderís web, that stretches over life.
Itís a pail of water that canít be drawn easily or safely.
It canít be touched by your lips,
Not without it cutting you down, with a slaying kiss.

Waiting for winter
Is a wooden flute played at the break of day?
It gets into your head and spoons your brains away.
Makes of your heart a schoolboys sleigh,
That one emptied that had your days numbered
Like a champagne cork exploding.

Waiting for winter
Will have you exploring the dark sinking in the snow
Forest creatures run and hide more slowly
Even they know now danger is around the corner
It confesses itself in their blood
In their coughing when winter comes.


Just For The Love Of It PHRASE

By Mark Heathcote

© 2018 Mark Heathcote (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Just For The Love Of It PHRASE Challenge-read page for rules, info, and REQUIRED PHRASE (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Just For The Love Of It PHRASE Challenge-read page for rules, info, and REQUIRED PHRASE (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Just For The Love Of It PHRASE Challenge-read page for rules, info, and REQUIRED PHRASE (challenge has been closed)


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