The sleigh pushes through the slush,
a destination not too far ahead,
will the frigid air freeze our core
and fill our chills with dread?
I’d like to think that will not be
and that our love can keep us warm
but until we reach that fiery warmth
only love can keep us from harm.
Rattling around in the far reaches of my brain
is the nagging reminder that today
there is so much to do and so little time
in which to properly convey
those three little words that are meant for you
that no matter what, I will not forget to say.
I hope you know the pain you’ve caused,
although I can’t imagine you do,
since the only pain that you can see
is that which you go through.
I don’t deny it must be bad,
looking in the mirror each day
and facing who you are inside
and pretending that’s okay.
A puzzle used to be complete
before the saw that tore it apart
made it’s everlasting impression
on what was whole to start.
It remains in pieces until the day
that a kindred soul comes along
and puts it together piece by piece
and slowly rights what has been wrong.
Stumbling through in a haze
the pain scratches the surface
of my brain
but step by step, I carry on
hoping that the journey
is not in vain.
Blue jays flitter and flutter
just outside my reach
but the snow is falling fast
and there is no way to breach
this glass that stands between
my frozen dinner and me.
So, my warm bed beckons
and that’s exactly where I’ll go
until those birds dry off
and get out of the frigid snow.
My blanket will be pulled high,
warmth is the key.
Before I fall to sleep
and upon my waking glance
you are the image I see
which has me in a trance.
Such beauty you possess
and I know no other who can
capture my heart in an instant
and hold it for a lifespan.
With each moment that passes,
my heart becomes a little more yours
and our future unfolds before my eyes
with nothing but open doors.
Your past and mine exist
for only one reason and no more,
as they were the bumpy roads
that led to exactly what we waited for.
The buzzing of the needle
scares many away
but the thrill that it elicits
is not achieved another way.
The message that I’m making
lasts forever on my skin
and I’ll take it to my grave,
along with all my sins.
Plain black or even color too,
my skin, the empty canvas awaits
for the artist’s fine creation
and the pure joy it elates.
Snow falls from the sky,
silence blankets the cold ground,
rosy cheeks by fire.
Autumn Siders 