Friday, 18 November 2011

The melancholy of a winters day

It is a cold, crisp morning
I shiver in my winter coat
I'm looking over the fields
Thinking of the letter you wrote

The meadow is covered with ripe
There is a gloom of a winter afternoon
I'm still walking past the corn field
Hearing your voice telling me: I'm coming, soon

The melancholy of this winters day
Is rubbing off on my mood
Fog is starting to creep up around the fields
Is it me it want's to include?

Suddenly I feel as if I'm not alone
As if there is a presence I can't explain
I start to ran as fast as I can
Am I hearing voices or am I going insane?

Suddenly I feel I'm starting to fall
I can't see a thing through the thickening mist
Nothing makes me more relieved then
To hear your voice and you grabbing me by the wrist

You're so cold, you say rubbing my fingers warm
I've been out here all day, pondering, waiting for you
You laugh, wrap your arms around me to warm me
And while the fog surrounds us, we disappear from view

© KH


chris said...

Ik hield het niet droog toen ik het las. Zo mooi geschreven.

Kati said...

O echt? Thanks, denk ik. :)