I would melt the snow for you, my love,
Into icy rivulets and streams;
Then warm them into running rivers,
Rapid enough to take you from my dreams
To that place of warmth, residing in my heart.
Thought I heard your voice, calling to me this morning,
“Honey I’m here, ” but it was just the wind, rustling
The palm you planted years before in the yard.
Sometimes I smell the cloves in your pastel
Or the cinnamon and jasmine in your hair
And then it dawns on me that you’re not here.
I would be a warm and gentle ray
Of sunlight, melting the ice away
To the waiting heart you knew so well.
Copyright ©2010
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