Goose Down Quilt

[Deborah Lee]

The screams of a Loon
near a bitter cold lake
rush through a forrest
of silent frosty trees.

My own roaring fire
can't tamp down the chill or
disguise the bleak anguish
only a fool won't hear.

Calls of a lover
searching desperately for
a warm winged companion
that will hold him tonight.

One more plantive shriek
under an icy moon
I snuggle, deeper still
beneath my goose down quilt.

[Cry Tears]

This poem was written with flare....painting pictures with words!
I could almost hear the loon, feel the crisp air and smell the goose down quilt as I closed my eyes and snuggled deeper into my bed.
Blessings,Cheryl
PS....when can we expect more of this fine art?