IF WINTER COULD SPEAK
The comfort of a breeze
chilling on a cold noon,
stripes of sunshine ,
cutting through the curtains.
The trees embrace solitude ,
before the leaves and flowers ,
bloom to life.
The squirrels munching nuts ,
carved under a big mahogany.
The streets are imprinted ,
by the morning dew drops.
The fogged window panes ,
turned opaque.
The warmth of caps and hoods ,
dangling back and forth ,
like bells on the heads of
little childern.
Brewing coffee from the chimneys ,
of slopped rooftops painted green and red.
Aroma sprinkled like mist
from the muffins and loafs of
banana bread.
Plated on the wooden tables
with checkered red and white
table runners.
savoured and relished ,
smearing the tips of the lips ,
tiny giggles faintly heard ,
from the corners of the
tiny cottage tucked
like a frame , cherished
Like a treasure cove.
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Want to try your hand at poetry? Email me at poeticiapoems@gmail.com
Featured image credits to rihaij on Pixabay
