Thursday, October 9, 2014

The Winter of Love

It was the dead of winter

A fresh snow had come
that pure white blanket
drifted across the walk
and just off the eves of my roof

The picture was like what you would find
only on a print done by Thomas Kinkade
That stone cottage
in amongst the trees
with a faint warm candle light
coming through its bay window

Warmed by the embers left in the hearth
we had explored each others bodies, minds and hearts
discovered that commonality only soul mates are aware of
we found a world that brought joy to both of us

It was the birth of our love

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