In Virgin Arms
IN VIRGIN ARMS
Like first love, snow is always new, unstirred,
Always innocent, always pure.
Silent now the melodies of the bird,
No echo rings through the boughs demure.
Branches make it clear in black and white
Snow wants to retain its secrecy withal
A private place - none to intrude, to invite
To disrupt our love, release the thrall
Draped in soft thick blanket, each latticed arm,
Each limb and finger, completely dressed
In a gown of purity, light cover to charm,
Takes my love, gives me rapture, is twice blessed.
. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Entered in John Freeman's Contest - Pictures of winter
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