Crisp Dawn

Friday, January 18, 2008

Night sands past swiftly

The sun rays are radiant,

as the wind howls less

Those morning scents tickle your nose

Fresh coffee, muffin and jam

We face the world paradigm

"The single hour of twenty-four, when crime ceases, debauchery is exhausted and desolation finds shelter." _Benjamin Disraeli

Bone Chilling Winter

Sunday- January 6, 2008

This is a poem about how the frigid cold can reach your bones. Your thoughts favor the warm Summer sun, in the Winter season.

The wind's chilling breath

nips at my bones

Swirls, as it wails,

boxing me down the street, as

tears fall without crying, while

bitter wind attacks my bones

with urgent purpose ahead,

to open the door for snow. EL