Snow

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Under a subdued sun,
Basking in its glory
Purity at it’s best,
The snow tells a story.

I’m glanced at in awe,
As if a blooming flower,
The heavens, my origin,
I’m compared to shining stars.

My airs are always chilly,
My temperature frozen cold
I breathe mists of water,
And always play outdoors.

Passer-by’s perceive me
As a stunning view,
Earth, my destination,
Rainbow is my hue.

The moon is my companion,
The trees sell me their souls,
I spread my white feathers,
Over plains, mountains and moors.

I’m trodden upon and molested
I’m shoved and heaped aside,
Yet humanity foresees my coming,
As the best of winter times.

My dream

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Though, this may sound confusing,
or corny, to say at least.
I dreamt of us the other night,
there you, then there was me.
There a beach and there chemistry,
hearts had surrounded our heads.
It was like a perfect little, notebook scene,
problem was we’d never met.
We were, completely strangers,
but that’s what we’ve always been, you see.
Then suddenly, my dream froze,
and you disappeared,
completely.

I long for the day

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I long for the day
of your tender embrace,
With my head meeting your shoulder,
and yours meeting mine,
As I inhale the aroma of your hair,
Grhtmling it with tender subtlety.
I embrace your soothing warmth,
This warmth which rekindles a certain spark in my heart,
This warmth which is the most warming in its serenity.
I turn to you, and peer into the night sky that is your eyes,
Pausing for the chance to perceive the ironic complexity
of your simple smile,
and become mesmerized in your soft chuckle.
I long for this day,
This day I await with empty motivation,
This day I regretfully acknowledge as a fictional reality,
This day that will never come.
This day I hate to long for.