Blows the North Wind

BLOWS THE NORTH WIND From off North Sea, a night wind cold, reminding me of growing old, each joint in pain, each pain held dear, lest in the end, I die from here, but die we must, or so I'm told. Out of the coming of the dawn, tomorrow's hope, life's going on, my hope for sunlight, soft and warm, to rid me of my painful norm, Night on your way!! O! Death be gone! Out of the night, from off North Sea, as I have mentioned previously, no wind you've felt has ever blown, so cold to chill your heart and bone, so deep as this wind does to me. Out from tomorrow's warming trend, with dawn, the touching of a friend, I hold the glow that kisses me, as dear as life--it seems to be, the touch of God, and not the end. Off from North Sea, out from the night, tis frigid, constant freezing bite, The blowing wind, a winter's gale, makes every joint I have to fail, but love the pain, or die I might. In light, tomorrow shall be less of pain brought on by cold's progress, and I no longer wish to die, but hope to see you, by and by, to make complete some happiness. © Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet