On a dark, gloomy shelf I now huddle
Behind mountains of clothes, unused and old
What a wretched life! No one to cuddle
In this winterless place that knows no cold.
Long ago, on the quaint, sleepy hills
She looked at me, fell madly in love
I gave her warmth and fought the chills
Boy, does she even remember me now?
One day, last month, as she walked towards me
‘At last!’ I thought ‘She is here to be mine’
Grabbing arms of wool, outstretched in glee
She hung me taut on the clothing line.
I sweltered under the blazing sun
Every fibre of my being was on fire
The heartless lady l thought was the one
Was blind as a bat to love and desire.
I vowed to never set my eyes on her
And give her rashes, dare she touch me again
She broke my soft heart of the purest fur
I swore, I’d avenge my hurt and pain.
Wait! Is the December breeze turning cool?
My oath is forgotten, hope is growing tenfold
Here she comes, craving the warmth of my wool
We are one at last, God bless the cold.
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Connect with Penmancy:
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- When its Time to Part - 7 Jan 2020
- A Warm Love Affair - 13 Dec 2019
- The Colour Pencils - 13 Nov 2019