This poem grew in the late hours of 21 May ~ so no frost, ice or anything ~ beautiful games being played in my mind.Ice Moon - 21 May 13Frosted fieldsTendrils of mist veilsWrap around the treesChills the airWhere the Moon walksHot browCool hand touchesThe fires rage againHer eyes pierce meImpale my HeartClaims me for herselfEmpress of IceMoon still holds m […]
ah…. the siren call of coffee! i know it well! {smile}
The mug calls so insistently – doesn’t it dani ♥