JB (2055 / Earth)

Saturday Morning In Winter

Morning scratches at the glass.
and the screen glares back white.
Boiling water recalls the heat of thoughts,
a small bird lands on a branch of sunrise.

And whipping the cream to clot,
as if the cream will stop tomorrow,
I look out the window, hopeful
at the snow, the icy dunes.

What strength a lover has
who pretends nonchalance!
My fingers freeze at the keyboard
When he calls me back to bed.

User Rating: 4,8 / 5 ( 14 votes ) 24

Comments (24)

A Very Deep And Moving Poem! ! ! ! ! Excellently Done! ! ! ! ! Thank You Ever So Much For Sharing This! ! ! ! ! Ever So Many 10S! ! ! ! !
There are some poems, not many, mind you, that open the path to immortality. 'Saturday Morning In Winter' is one of them.
After all this well-deserved praise, Not much left to say, Don't want to be repetitive So, I'll tell you in my way, 'An immortal and great poem You have written on this day! ' It's just one of those forever poems, That will never go away, A touch of spirituality More than words can evev say.
You have not only changed your name but your style of writing too! Amazing write!
I cannot pick out a favorie line- I simply cannot.... but I can tell you those opening 4 lines are the best opening lines ever- - and the middle 4 lines are the best middle lines eve- - and the closing 4 lines are the best and hottest lines ever! ! ! ! ! As you can tell, I love this poem unconditionally. 10+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ and a place on my fav list
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