Missing The Kinder Days

The grey of these days intrudes every step, 

with cold as a dagger taking away confidence. 

Without that the feet don't do the dance 

of going to and fro. 

The january time imposes a lack of will by casting frost, sleet and darker 

temperaments. 

But christmas was all softer on the senses, with tree, tinsel and tv lures. 

My lover held my fingers in a kind touch 

and sang into my ears tunes of being hopeful. 

When now I find no decorations and coloured lights, 

let alone the jasmines and yellow roses of summer, 

I hold back from rising and brimming. 

The blue dragonflies, orange monarch butterflies, 

my other pinings, get no notice, 

and sighs clog my heart's content. 

The dull of these morns and eves 

is a forest of thorny twigs that prick and scratch. 

My eyes water, looking for a whole lot of other things: 

buckets full of warm weather normal water, 

the usual touching the heart, 

feet never dragging held down by ghostly damp, 

another christmas alighting from the sweetest heavens.