THIS CHRISTMAS...

I was drenched through and through

Mist in the air, Mistletoes on doors...

The Christmas spirit had begun to move

Fierce rain beating against my shoulders

Breath cold and smoking...

Deserted streets, eyes blinded by the incessance,

Desperate and lonely in essence.

My hands held their only hope, only possession

From the slandering torrents outside...

protectively, concealed and unravaged...

Holding it against my coat on the inside,

holding it dear, holding it with care.

Teeth chattering, Feet gone numb, chest convulsing

'Twas as though I needed the hidden rose

and your prevailing pervading thoughts, akin

To survive the cold Christmas,

from your warmth alone that balms up from within