Winter Sonata
In the landscape
of melancholy,
where arctic
heartbeats linger,
I long for withered
willows to blossom
like speckled
diamond petals,
while your crystalline
silhouette strolls
through tangled tunnels
of my weathered mind.
And I question
the highest choir
orchestrating
ethereal anthems:
What if there’s no right key
to harmonize this
undying yearning?
What if love had a voice?
Would it be an
echo of melting snow—
thawing glacier hearts
to stream upon
silver lakes,
mirroring drifting
clouds of memories
that drizzle
rose-tinted flakes?
There, the crisp
air whispers
magical tales
chauffeured in
cashmere cadence.
But, like the golden
tendrils of
winter jasmine,
my fingers
stretch beyond
fogs of frozen rainbows,
sketching
sweet-scented dreams
across skies
in porcelain pigments,
as your voice
glimmers and
glows amidst
poetic pearls
resting on
your lyrical lips,
shifting through
colors of the
seasonal breeze,
serenading
symphonies
for soulmates.
So let me
undress the
wintry wisps of vanilla,
cloaking the
citrine threads
of sunrise in your eyes,
listening to
the song of the
wind that shrouds
our unsung sonatas
when we were undone.
For you and I,
we are like
jewels in the azure,
ruminating in rhymes,
quilted in a
secluded igloo,
as chickadees
of the night
chirp in sync
with the moon,
mimicking hymns
from the
hypnotic lyre of Orpheus,
to which Eurydice waltzed,
even the waning stars
would unravel
a sequined staircase
to the gardens
above the highest spheres.
For I would die
a million
deaths to
rewind and replay
the dulcet chorus
of this
immortal romance.
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.
