Winter is blue

I wanted to write something about you but I couldn’t quite figure it out.
So I heard this song

You’re like a song
Sung by that beautiful petite girl who sings of Christmas
 A cold December morning where I see the gifts below the tree
The lights are still switched on
The rest of the family still sleeps
The fog looks so beautiful so ethereal
That is when you enter into the room
You peak through the snow-white window
You smile so flamboyantly
There is not a hint of stolidness
The serenity is never too severe. It is just right
I can even glimpse a lingering smile as you scold me for my foolishness.

I walk to the window the blue framed one that you capture so beautifully through your eyes
The mind in its sublime state
The calmness is not bland
It is at that state where it is brimming with the childlike fervour

Your mind is clear like your dog like friend who you share so lovingly with the ones around
Everything is in it’s exactness organized and chiselled
The eyes are sincere, the violin plays a nonsensical song
reminding us to eat again and talk of nothing in particular
As we sit together
The auburn leaves fly above us
You look through your blue framed window
Smiling at us


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