She was a romantic, warm hearted, sentimental fool in a very cold world, the type of world that sometimes seemed to have no refuge for dreamers and those that believe in true love.   At times she would feel loves warm rays dance briskly across her face and the seeds of self worth in her heart would just for an instant anticipate the beginning of spring and the end of her winter.  The spring that would break the talons clutch of  fear and vulnerability which gripped her so tightly.  What she feared most of all was that the source of her love would turn to ice if not rekindled by the warmth of another’s breath.  That this ice would envelop her soul and the weight of the hurt she carried inside would shatter her frozen spirit into million pieces.

Maybe spring was just a dream but sometimes even a dream is just enough to get you through the cold.

Ged Thompson Liverpool Poet and Writer 12/04/14