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Beyond The Wintery Walls

When the wings

Of a black bird sings

A song of wonder

A song of hope

My heart flutters

Looking for wonders

 

Far beyond these kitchen walls

Something brighter calls

It tells of summer

It tells of spring

My eyes widen

And look to hide in

 

The call of the dance

Of summery days

A time of freedom

A time of heat

When I could live

And I could give

 

My heart to another

Someone new

Handsome

And true

When I could dance

And sweet romance

 

With the man of summer’s hue

Sun kissed and smiling

Laughing

Dancing

There we would lie

Under a drunken sky

 

With the wine of summer’s dew

Drunk on sun

Drunk on you

Intoxicated hearts

Like stealing tarts

 

From the window pane

Where I’m the same

Dark kitchen walls

Dark peeling halls

Summer’s gone

It’s winter’s dawn

 

And love is gone

Where it once shone

Like summery sun

Like flowers sprung

And now, I’m alone

I’m winter’s own

 

– Another poem. This one is a little late; I’ve been super sick. Think bronchial infection mixed with ear infection mixed with the flu from last week. So while I meant to post this right after the quote, I, unfortunately, could barley muster the energy to go to school, and then to volleyball practice, where I could barley move. Excuses, I know. Oops.

Anyways, this poem. A little different, and I’m not quite sure where in the world it came from. I’m thinking is stems from my and my best friend’s talk about guys, love, summer, winter, fall. And it all kinda fell into my head in the format you see above. 

How many movies in one’s lifetime, how many books, do we read and see about summer romances? Grease, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, Dear John, The Last Song, etc. But sometimes we don’t get to see what happens after the happy couple finally get together. What do they do? What happens if they break up? What happens if it doesn’t work out? Then what? That’s kind of how I read this poem, and kind of the story behind it. A young girl has a summer romance, that ends when the leaves begin to fall. But she really did like him, and now, she’s alone again in her home, that reflects, in  way, how her heart is – dark, and in need of a reno, so to speak.

One thing to note on this one, is that the girl in the poem is not me. I had a quick summer fling a year ago, when I was out of town, but it barley lasted long enough to get it off the ground, and I can hardly count it as a relationship. In fact, I was the one who broke it off fairly quickly. But that also make me think; was I too quick, too harsh? Was I only afraid to give it a chance? Is that why I’m afraid that I’ll be the one alone while all my friends get married? Then I remember, that I’m not the only person who wonders if they are going to be ‘forever alone’. Everybody is afraid, to some extent, that they will never find ‘the one’, or find somebody who loves them, flaws and all. It’s just harder when you feel like you are alone in feeling that way.

So, I’m waiting for love, and hoping, in a secret way, that I’ll find a summer romance…and be able to keep it longer than the summer heat. Because when that fades, there’s nothing left but cold. And I want someone to be there through the cold. Trivial, in it’s own way, but true.

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About Michelle

I read, write, sing, hunt rabid giraffes, play volleyball, and play guitar. I love my big Alberta skies, wheat fields, and camping trips in the summer. I love to travel. I'm secretly a nerd. (Read as, I watch musicals, read Harry Potter too often, and can quote most of the movies I watch.) I love to be out in the country, riding quads and bikes, and just getting away from the city. I love the friends that I have and I try to be as loyal as I can. I've been writing since I was little, and I love to do so. It's a passion of mine that I hold close to my heart, and I love to use it to express the way I feel, or freeze a moment, or a feeling, in the time that it occurred. I also lied about giraffe hunting. I usually only hunt mosquitoes.

2 responses to “Beyond The Wintery Walls

  1. I love how you play with the seasons and let them tell the story. 🙂

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