Linda Studley

Can't Put the Pen Down…


Rosy glows bloom pinkly on cheeks
Snow flake petals fall, crisp and cold,
but after a few dozen weeks
those winter analogies get old.

They’re just a form of denial
wrapped ‘round a soft core of longing
A dream of a tropical isle
Sandal-ing and sarong-ing

An un-winter type place to go
where the sand is as white as snow.



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