Frosted Panes - Re-Post

When winter paints those frosty ferns on my windowpane I find myself a little girl up on your lap again In that old house, where you wove that coloured tapestry With all the glorious memories of your life upon the sea With weathered palm so deeply etched with every season past You rubbed a porthole in the center of the frosted glass Where outside in splendour lie a winter-wonderland As halos rose above your head from a pipe bowl in your hand And there upon a rocking chair as smoke rings filled the air We rocked across a sea of dreams wind tangled in our hair To lands I’d never been before we stepped upon those shores And through your eyes I saw each one and still I wanted more The morning passed in dreams between two pairs of eyes of green As the world outside held its breath in a sea of snowy cream And when the chill of winter melted from the windowpane The whistling kettle on the stove brought us home again You held my hand and looked at me with that twinkle in your eyes And told me you would be my Captain 'til the day I died So when winter paints those frosty ferns on my windowpane I find myself a little girl up on your lap again ~~~~~ Written: Jan 15, 2011 Author: Elaine George First Place in Brian Strand's contest: Let's See 4th Place In - Anything goes contest In loving memory of my Dear Papa 'Captain James George'. Authors Note: When I was a child of three, I Went to live for a year with my Grandparents in Nova Scotia. At that time my Grandfather was a retired Sea Captain of a Three Mast Schooner. He had spent most of his life at sea, taking lumber and coal to New Brunswick and various ports in the U.S. and in the winter months, would carry on to pick-up and deliver cargo in the West Indies. Although my time with him was short, the memories we shared have comforted me through-out the years. ~~~~~