The Dawn of Dreams

 

Twilight steals across the canal,
As the last red rays of day fade.
And night's curtain descends.
Soon is the dawn of dreams.

Whispers of Winter whirl about,
Our house glows under clouds of rose,
In skies of robin's egg blue, and
I snuggle for warmth with hot tea,
And the summer love of family.

The canal glimmers -- a silver ribbon,
Its surface rippling with secrets.
Memories of golden daffodils,
Flames to ignite the fading landscape.
Their petals flutter and dance,
A celebration of fleeting beauty.

Winter's wind, a mischievous spirit,
Weaves through ancient branches,
And carries the scent of pine and frost,
A promise of snow-kissed mornings.
Our home trembles, a ship at sea,
Its timbers creaking in harmony.

And there, by the fireside glow,
We gather—the heartbeats of kin.
Laughter ripples -- spilled sunlight,
Warming our souls against Winter's chill.
In this cozy haven, love blooms eternal,
A fragrant bloom in the garden of time.

Mick McKellar
February 2024