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My Wintertide

Jack Frost, Old Man Winter hibernation not allowed a camouflage of mask and cloak, a guise that is only window dressing as I wander through my wintertide. This season in my life passes at a crawl naked branches lost love of a granddaughter I will never see much less stroke or snuggle, through my wintertide. I’m detached from her by blizzards of space and estrangement that haunts me, plaguing and sanctioning my love for this innocent, through my wintertide. When will I see her again? How long can this winter last, these are questions that chill me to the bone, frosting my heart which will never make it though my wintertide.

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Poet Destroyer A

Date: 12/26/2015 7:49:00 PM

well done, excellent flow... LINDA

Robyn Campbell
Date: 12/26/2015 8:12:00 PM

Thanks, friend. I wrote this last summer. First time I've put it out there. It's about someone I know. Her granddaughter isn't allowed to see her.

Skat A

Date: 12/26/2015 4:00:00 PM

Deep write, Robyn, I like the repeated line, My wintertide, --sometimes the reader needs a flow that drives the imagery back to square one. Somehow I find this poem to be sad. Especially with the mention of your granddaughter. I like how every line on here was well written and thought of. I'd rate your poem with a 10, but 7 is the highest on this page. SKAT

Robyn Campbell
Date: 12/26/2015 8:14:00 PM

SKAT, thank you, thank you. You have no idea how you made my heart smile. Sending a heart smile back to you. :-)