Icicles

The last time I felt your touch-

I shimmered,
In your glow.
And basked,
In your warmth-

Blissful ecstasy.


The spring flowers etched a heart,
Of reds and yellows,
As we sat a distance apart-
Caressing our senses-

In sheer abandon.


The zephyr whispered a lullaby-

Ever so gentle,
I held my hands out,
A welcome note,
A gesture-

Ever so soft.


The time stuck, in my heartbeats-
As I waited,
In blithe anticipation,
Of possessing-

My heart's desire.


The gale swept off the reds and yellows-

Winter bloomed frost,
All over-
Icicles of my love,
Froze.
.
.
.
A testimonial of the lost season-

A winter love-
Frost beaten.