For a while, I was dreading the idea that I had lost my ability to write poetry but finally, at eleven o'clock last night, I got inspired and my words began to flow again. Yay! So, here's the poem I wrote, called Heat.
Swooning over yellow fields
and farmhouse roofs
Hazy horizons and muggy air
follow in her wake
Sultry, sizzling, sighing
Stretching her dry arms further
Draping them lazily
over whatever lies in her path
Waiting for her forbidden love
A frigid blast of air
also known as Cold.
Life seems to deflate beneath her touch
She wanders slowly
Savoring the loneliness around her
and the lights that flicker out
But, Cold never shows up
With a last despairing sigh
Heat retraces her steps and
goes back to the arid, golden wasteland
from which she came.
Yay!
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