THE KILLING FROST
Winter, and the last snow of the year,
Hard frost following.
Its glittering fingers weaving
Over the cherry tree,
Tickling the tight red buds
Which would not open
To the guile of winter
And the cold cold sunlight,
To the spiteful icy kisses
Of the killing frost,
Killing the promise
Of the cherry blossom.
Listen, Lovers.
When frost touches the heart,
It’s all over.
© 2020 Gwen Grant
But cannot even a frozen heart be melted?
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It can – but the focus of the poem would then be different.
Gwen
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but surely cryogenics…
A frozen heart can be preserved but when defrosted is worse than useless, like a delicate flower.
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That made me laugh again! Very persuasive but not in this particular poem!
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Fancy that, a fellow popping up out of nowhere and trying to rewrite other people’s pomes!
It perfect as it is, just got me thinking.
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