My heart
Some would say frozen
The poverty of emotion
Apparent
But they are crazy
‘Though the memory’s hazy
It’s there
It appears in gusts
Big waves and strong thrusts
Rasping
But with arms adamantly folded
With all that is holy
It’s hidden
My heart
Beats like a saint
Or maybe a sinner
At home it’s a winner
Tied by a rope
To the Earth where I live
In permanent Winter?
Not quite.
Tom
I am sure there is a soft heart in there just waiting to jump out.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Oh, there is Beverly… it;s just very well covered!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Soft heart come out, come out and play.
LikeLiked by 2 people
It may do one day, Hélène… you never know! 😉 😀
LikeLike
Oh Tom! 🙂
Yes, there is a warm heart out there waiting for you! 🙂
I’ve had my share, but nothing that lasted… 😦
God Bless!
Prenin.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A little bit is better than nothing at all, Prenin… sigh.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The permanent winter is a good punchline.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Col. Yes, I quite liked it when that line appeared! 😀
LikeLike
Beautiful words Tom.
Truly beautiful.
~ Cobs.x
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Cobs, I’m pleased you think so! 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person