Wednesday 2 March 2011

SONNET XXXIV - WANDERER

The bitter chilling wind cuts through my coat
to steal the precious warmth away from me
it wraps its icy hands around my throat
and chokes away my weakly wimpered plea
so helplessly I stagger through the cold
in search of some reprieve from Winter's grasp
but he will not release his deathly hold
until I've given out my final gasp
but then a figure walks out of the storm
as staggered and as chilled down to the bone
perhaps we two might keep each other warm
it's better to share heat than die alone
   this cold's a foe one person cannot fight
   we'll make it if we hold each other tight.

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