By Ben Vest
I could feel it in the air, Intoxicating, compelling my senses, If only I could share, Exposing, revealing my messes, Only just to stare, And leave you with guesses, Take a seat, have a chair, And leave me restless. I could feel it in the air, Swirling, floating all around me, With each snow drops individually rare, A blue rose frozen, plainly to see, Carefully handled with care, Like holding breath, or a held back sneeze, Glistened naked and bare, Shattering threatened upon release. I could feel it in the air, Grasping this iced cold stem, It’s beauty ever so fair, It doesn’t need to compete with them, With its striking, piercing flair, Such a delicate little gem, A single touch could tear, A soul to condemn, Ripping out my hair. I could see it in the air, the way you swayed, With winter winds floating to floods, Taking, washing everything away, Remembering when we were buds, And all the games we used to play, Now you’re with the gods, You were picked, stem filleted, Now if only my blood, Could make you forever stay.
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© Original Artwork, copyright of Ben Vest, all rights reserved