Yet to walk 
With footsteps falling 
Over crusts of late fallen snow 
To the whimsical shadows stalk
Of past's whispered calling 
Beneath a moon hung so very low 

But to roam
A first footfall must step
Have the courage to stir 
With the possibility of the fall 
Such as leaf from tree's splendor 
In late autumn's might 
Clinging to the life of summer 
To hold against winter's night 

Oh, to gaze upon winters solace 
With the chill driving to the bones 
Where kindling and spark 
Would draw warmth to the soul 
To laugh amongst kin 
To rejoice amongst kind 
Where paradise is a post card 
And new years is divine 


Yet to love 
Where once there was cold 
A struck match into fire 
As setting a heart to stone 
Would you walk 
With laden fears 
From depths of winter 
To the springs thaw 
A hand within mine 
As one could withdraw a splinter 
From injured thumb 
A heart left shaken 
Desolate and alone 
Could once more sustain life 
As a soul may take flight 

And on angel's wings 
Fancied in a dream 
To soar above Christmas 
New Years and Eve 
Through the birth of spring 
And summer's own radiance 
Into yet again the clutches of autumn 
And to the next of winter long 


To fancy 
As if upon a dream 
Looking from windows frosted 
As if peering from fantasy 
On the inside to look outward 
Where the world may bloom 
Within it has been winter 
For far too long 

Yet does the heart not have a door 
With its written lock 
In poetry they speak of keys 
To persuade love's block 
To cast open a barricade 
Made of things much sterner than steel 
Unbreakable to force of fist and violence 
Yet melted with a smile 
And cast asunder with a kiss 

Yet to walk 
But to walk with love 
In a fancy and a dream 
To walk from walls 
Through keyholes and doors 


Yet to walk in springtime 
Lush and in bloom 
To walk through a fairytale 
With a slung low moon