Christopher Adams

The Kiss Of The Snow

A vision before me in thy icy touch,
Under shining stars on glistening white
I’ve seen thy face and pondered much,
Where doth thou dwell in hours of light?
Oh sing to me that familiar song!
The ode to earthly pain and woe.
Draw me deeper to innocent wrong,
As thine eyes ensnare in drifting snow.
For thy kiss my soul I’ll give away,
To sweet darkest truth in mortal hand
So thy mask of youth shall not decay
And took by fate I’ll understand.
When I am a shadow, withered and frail
Thy face shall still be perfectly pale.