GertietheGremlin

her hands are chapped and raw from anxiously 

peeling away her skin

so she goes through every fidget she can find

and wears them down until they break.

her lips and nose are red and cracked

you used to love the snow and ice

the dark and stormy winter nights

December's magic festive glow

now seems many years ago.

you crave the warmth of summer's kiss

let sunlight bring you back to bliss

I'll find you in the golden hour

I see your eyes in the trees

when the world, for an hour, is rimmed with glow

I'll look for you in the leaves.

I'll find you in the pink hour

love me 

like the fog –

like the fog loves december –

for the winter gets blurry 

and it's hard to remember 

hold me 

like the fog – 

It's a thin, fragile book

you would keep in a desk

the cover is elegant

and the pages, a mess

In black and red ink

If you put these words to melody

would they suddenly be known?

my poems played across the world

to an audience that's grown?

I've no melody in mind

only scribbles on a page