William Blake Beckett
A Warmth Known Only to Me
I see a tundra filled with sparkling white.
I squint my eyes at it's dazzling allure.
And I wonder if it would be alright
If I were to hope to see it once more.
It is snow that causes swells in her chest
And her smile is what always stirs mine.
A flower at worst, an angel at best,
She stands, warm in winter, frozen in time.
Maybe one day I could summon the strength
To confess to her in the Winter heat
That one day we could, together, at length
Enjoy long moments where our eyes would meet.
And should I gaze upon her face again,
I would hope to feel snow upon my skin.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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