Snow Queen: a poem By John McKinley Pride Jr
"Snow Queen"
Thursday faces; they come and go; but they melt in the snow by the end of the week.
Down by the creek we go; Thursday faces in the snow, on white flowers are where they grow, beautiful and pale is her face; smiling with wonderful grace.
Is this were I kiss her red bright lips?
Her icy blue eye’s send me on trips and pierces my heart as she starring into my eyes given off eternal sighs.
Crying snowflakes into a puddle of thoughts; turning them in to ice; leaving a reflection of her face but not a trace of her body.
I can’t hold her, I can’t touch her, I see her and it hurts so bad not to be able to reach her, to hold her in my arms and kiss her red lips is all I need.
Her breath feels cold as she whispers in my ear that she loves me, but, I still can’t hold her near, my snow queens faces in the snow.
I just have to let her go, her Thursday faces in the snow.
By John McKinley Pride Jr.
7/26/’06
Thursday faces; they come and go; but they melt in the snow by the end of the week.
Down by the creek we go; Thursday faces in the snow, on white flowers are where they grow, beautiful and pale is her face; smiling with wonderful grace.
Is this were I kiss her red bright lips?
Her icy blue eye’s send me on trips and pierces my heart as she starring into my eyes given off eternal sighs.
Crying snowflakes into a puddle of thoughts; turning them in to ice; leaving a reflection of her face but not a trace of her body.
I can’t hold her, I can’t touch her, I see her and it hurts so bad not to be able to reach her, to hold her in my arms and kiss her red lips is all I need.
Her breath feels cold as she whispers in my ear that she loves me, but, I still can’t hold her near, my snow queens faces in the snow.
I just have to let her go, her Thursday faces in the snow.
By John McKinley Pride Jr.
7/26/’06
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