Winter Memories

on the trees and gardens now so bare,

i hear the ghosts of memories calling

in the frigid winter air.

I look again at the big logs

merrily crackling in the old fireplace,

cuddled down in the soul caressing heat,

i shall fear no harm from

the frigid winter night.

Then, i'll grow very lonesome,

for all the dear friends i used to know.

Dreams of old memories

will arise all about me,

tears will fill my aging eyes,

i shall be thinking of us all.

So, when the snow outside is softly falling,

and the icicles pallid light reflects a glow,

all the gray haired ghosts of memories,

will be sitting here with me,

until off to dreamland we all go.

My Blog~Mystical Poetry, Prose, and Political Viewpoints