The Gift
The gift was an extension
of his strong and safe arms.
On bitter cold winter nights,
I was kept pleasantly warm.
In the heat of midsummer,
it protected my frail skin.
Such a simple, ordinary thing,
but the meaning behind it
so deep and unexpected.
During the darkest of nights
when the tears never end,
a symbol of hope,
the dear gift becomes.
Hold me close in dreams
and chase the dark away.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
