My Poem “Thaw”

The air is cold…
There is ice all around…
I am steeping out,
I am breaking the mould…
I refuse to stay in one place
and forever remain gravity bound…
I will not allow fear to take hold…
I will put one foot in front of the other
and walk towards my destiny
that has been foretold…
Soon the ice will thaw
and again I will see the path
upon which I am fated to walk…
There is no way of turning back,
there is no time for talk…
The essence of time is to be fleeting…
The reason of memory
is in order to be reminded of life’s meaning…
I do not fear the future,
nor do I fear this shining icy floor…
One step at a time,
I will keeping going
and walk within the light of the sun
as it slowly but surely transforms
and returns all islands of ice
back into the air from whence they came
in one almighty thaw.

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My Poem ‘Ice Dreams’

Ice-skating in New York City;
building snowmen in London;
waiting to hear
if the groundhog saw his shadow
in Punxsutawney, Pensylvannia;
sitting in your living room with your children
while watching the movie ‘Frozen’;
collecting fire-wood;
going for long walks;
sitting in a cafe with a coffee and a good book;
meeting up with friends
and enjoying the company of someone
who you haven’t seen in a while
and having a good catch-up and talk;
wrapping up well in thick clothing;
wrapping gifts to be given to friends and family;
listening to seasonally-themed songs
playing on the radio that you can’t resist
the temptation to sing-along with;
the tradition of decorating a room and a tree
that when completely adorned
has the wonderful gift
of making all that look upon it
incredibly happy.

Everybody has a vision and a memory
of what Winter is all about;
to some people the cold temperatures
of winter are what they dislike the most
and they would gladly, if they could,
do without;
to me, it wouldn’t be Christmas especially
if it were not cold, cloudy,
and at any moment it did not feel
like it were about to snow at any moment –
I don’t think I could get used to
having a Christmas, in say Australia,
where it is as hot as the turkey
that is being served up on the dinner table
outside in the sun,
where as you are eating
you can smell the aroma
of food being cooked
on a nearby barbecue.

There are some people
who have never seen
a single real-life flake of snow
fall before their eyes;
their are some people
who have seen more winter days
to last a life-time;
their are some people
who could just out of their window
at a flurry of snow without ever getting bored,
while happily enjoying mulled-wine and mince-pies;
their are some people who know and love
that it is winter by the intoxicating smell of pine.

There is something about winter
that brings out different things in different people;
there is something amazing and beautiful
about how the light of the sun
shines on a winter day
and the way that it can make everything gleam;
there is something fairy-tale-like, and almost magical,
about a snow-covered world;
there is something about everything
that stirs the imagination
that calls back to memories of childhood experiences –
and though to some the thought of cold
and of snow might be their version of a nightmare,
everybody can remember every time
that they had a waking-
or a night-time envisioning
of a very memorable,
and a most-likely cold,
ice dream.