Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Monday, January 9, 2017

4:33A.M.

Your hands run
in the mess of my hair,
your touch tender
and full of care.
I stir a little,
perhaps even mumble,
incoherently in sleep.
You pull me in
the circle of your arms,
my back fits perfectly
in the hollow of your torso
and your warm legs
entangle in my not-so-warm.
Its a biting January morning,
cold, frosty and foggy.
But nestled in you,
I am all cozy and warm.
And then drifting
in and out of consciousness,
I realize I am dreaming.
I hold on to the vision,
and prolong my sleep.
until the quilt becomes cold.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook : 100 words: Cold

6 comments:

  1. You write with such beautiful imagery. I can see the whole scene playing out.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you so much Tara. It is really heartening to hear such encouraging words.

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  2. Beautiful - I've missed reading your work.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Its an honor to hear such kind words from you Kelly.
      I have missed you around too.

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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.