Have you ever felt the way
the pale winter sun reaches
deep within the soul?
Gold dust sprinkled across
crisp white whispers of winter.
Droplets of dew kissing the boughs
of dying trees lost leaves
aging beneath our feet.
Soft skies promising a silent echo
as winters queen caresses
our blushing cheeks.
Her gentle kisses, frozen embrace and
love formed from the purest lace.
Have you ever felt the pale sun
or crisp morning air beneath
gentle skies as robins fly?
Karen Hayward ©2016 (Image and words)