Iron & Wine - Faded From Winter
Snowy, winter night music.
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This is my winter song to you.
The storm is coming soon,
it rolls in from the sea
My voice; a beacon in the night.
My words will be your light,
to carry you to me.
Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love…
They say that things just cannot grow
beneath the winter snow,
or so I have been told.
They say we’re buried far,
just like a distant star
I simply cannot hold.
Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?
This is my winter song.
December never felt so wrong,
'cause you're not where you belong;
inside my arms
I wrote a poem about winter
if one is female
one doth prefer winter
because one doth not need
to shaven the legs
quite so frequently
because pants
I FOUND IT
We stood on the wood bridge
over old Shoal Creek when
you reached up and shook
a handful of snowflakes
out of the white winter stars.
Just a handful,
just a few cold crystals
that tumbled down into the lazy
loping water of old Shoal Creek.
As we watched them come down,
I grabbed your magic hand
and held it until those falling
flakes were swallowed up
and swept downstream,
thinking you were as rare
as an Alabama snowfall
and I needed to hold your hand
to keep you from disappearing
just as quick.
This poem © Gabriel Gadfly. Published Jan 24, 2012
In early June the world of leaf and blade and flowers explodes, and every sunset is different.
The Winter of Our Discontent by John Steinbeck (via balltillifall)