Apr
19
Tender Warmth
The lining of my hands
Frozen by the morning dew
The rest of my body stands
To grow icicles a few
Then hope is near
But not yet in sight
The drumbeat I hear
Might come with some light
Movement is slow
The air is still
But a faint glow
The room begins to fill
The gates to my soul
Are slowly cracking
The water begins to flow
The waves are now crashing
Movement is regained
The frost begins to give
No longer restrained
My body begins to live
Tender warmth that can melt
All the cold around
This is how I felt
Waking next to you
Awwwwwwwwwwww. What a lovely poem!