Winter’s Secret- Michael Erickson

For some your love is bitter,

Like chalk root of the moor.

Your lips press tight will icy love,

Chilling your embrace.

They turn from you  as one newly scorned,

Refusing to accept the truth.

That all along you’ve been waiting close,

Ignored, unknown, misunderstood.

But I see you,

Through a frosted sleep,

You know all would only see.

Your heart glows brightly with a radiant soul,

Your hands with a pure intent.

I see you Winter in all your glory,’

And your secret I will keep.

Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.

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