Sentimental Snowcapped Romance, Seasonally

by December 25, 2015 0 comments

Winter’s a season to carry in a pocket,
hoping it’s as pretty as remembered.

Holy ghosts of Christmas pasts, futures and presents
wish our world ices under heels.

Some search for angels in snow,
expect gifts they know they’ll love,
or will explain what a life feels like.

Find what’s built, don’t crumble with it.
Grow experiences outlasting heartbeats.

Every night’s holy. Drain glasses, always feel full.
Sing simple carols as loud as favorite swears.
All hallways wear mistletoe as years become old loves.

Be lucky stomachs are as knotted as lights
before kissing, breathing out ghosts goodnight.

editors note:

An eternal Season’s Greeting from our Short Story Editor (also a poet in his own write) for all who would keep their ghosts alive. (Read two more from Tyler on his page; greetings, for contrast, from a brief season in hell.) – mh clay

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