Scurrying home on a Winter here

By paborama

Mon, 21 Jan 2013

4 comments

Grey strokes the winding snow
Against the window fearless blow
Trenchant, tearing, cradling, dying

Reborn in gusts and strident gale
Who knows how will end the tale
Drenched, torn, dying

Silent grows the night too soon
A locked and bolted door my boon
The fire newly sighing

A duvet keeps those fears away
And stands the wolves of night at bay
My frosty hands vying

For the warmth of you, the heat of us
The bowl of soup and a hearty crust
The night no longer prying

Permalink Submitted by jolono on Mon, 2013-01-21 16:33

I really liked the flow of this paborama. Last verse made it feel like a poem full of love.

Permalink Submitted by paborama on Mon, 2013-01-21 17:58

Thanks, I'm not sure if I like the final line yet.

Permalink Submitted by The Walrus on Mon, 2013-01-21 20:27

It flows wonderfully, Paborama. Sometimes you can over-edit, so maybe you should leave it as it is.

Permalink Submitted by paborama on Tue, 2013-01-22 09:47

Thanks all. I removed the 's from night's but chose not to add 'are' before vying. It is what it is. Stay warm!