Winter

Its snowing again,
but getting stuck here without you hardly seems fair.
A foot at least.
Like we always talked about, the wind howling down the chimney, snow drifting up against the door.
Pointless really.
Why have a good storm if you have no one to enjoy it with?
You should be here.
It should be all candles and brandy and a proper fire.
"Real flame effect" who are they trying to kid?
Not much use when the power goes.
What was I thinking?

Martin Swords
lovely poem, a stream of thinking, not really about snow or even winter - other than the winter of a mistake made and a late realization. Great. Thanks. Martin

Debs
A touching poem of missing your love.

Poor Phraser
this is almost a play. well done.