Winters dream, chills me to the bone,
by Ruth warren
so nice to be by the fireplace, here
in my home. An old patchwork quilt
that Grandma made for me, so soft
and cuddly as it lays across my knees.
The children gone, families of their
own, nothing more chilling than
this empty home. Crackling of the fire,
as the sparks fly slowly to the sky,
disappearing in the cold night air,
with each one, I send a prayer.
The snow piling up upon the window
panes, the moons glow, the only light,
other than the flames. Shadowy dances
outside, performed by the branches so
bare, lonely as the night, my heart
aches for someone to care.
Day after day the silence comes, haven't
seen the children in ages, I wonder what
their lives have become. Husband passed
ten years ago, my heart still falling
slowly like Winter's snow.
Each flake drifting blindly, no eyes
they have to see, lead by the winds,
as they bring painful memories. The
spruce they still stand strong, carrying
the weight of the snow, like the burdens
that I carry alone.
Stars dim lights hanging in the sky,
still they sparkle, like these tears
that I cry. Cold Winter night, a lonely
one it seems, wrapped up in sadness,
lost in a winters dream.
The mountains covered by natures blanket
of white, no footprints of visitors in
the cold winters sight. Footprints of
family coming home once again, a gentle
thought, as my dreams begin.