Let Me Love Winter Poem by Guinevere Eveleigh

I see winter
Forlorn and sincere
Lips the colour of dawning morning
Eyes like fog descending the horizon
With the shadow of a unknown figure in the middle
Her robes sweep over the crystallised grass
Her fingers make me think of birch
Her breath billows around her petal-like face
Her face I want to hold a candle to
But I fear she may drip and be gone
So I don't, I fear her fragility
Like a snowflake
Any heat may cause her to melt away from my eyes
I love her so
I wish her to escape her wondering mind
Her other-worldly gaze
The o of her lips letting out heavy steam
Impossible to love
Yet impossible to not
I want to caress your face
But I worry for you delicacy
Like powder I might smudge you
Yet they tell me you are carved from ice
But I don't believe them
You are a delicate thing, winter
Let me hold you and cradle you and let me sigh with you
Till I ‘am holding nothing but your soaking remains
And I shall stand there till I'm dry
Dry as bone
But cold as stone
Then I shall die to find you again in a place where you can be loved
Winter, oh, winter.
Let thou be loved.