Sunday, 5 February 2017

Tender Winter



I sew memories
In that winter sun
Basking in glory
As slowly embers burn

Huddled together
Bundled in awe
In grandma's cuddle
Dreams that I saw

By that wooden log
Orange it glowed
Warm stories flowed
As out snow poured

I sew memories
Sweet and bitter
Of moth smelling sweater
That lovely tender winter


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15 comments:

  1. Such a wonderful cadence to this, Anusha ❤️ Beautifully penned.

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  2. This takes me back to winter afternoons with my grandma, as we watched the fire and she told me magical stories. Sigh. Beautiful!

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  3. Great imagery, this idea of sewing memories.

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  4. I've a quilt my mother made from pieces of her mother's dresses. Your beautiful words were reminiscent of that quilt. Thank you.

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    1. That is so precious. You are most welcome

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  5. Sweet. Luv it
    Happy Sunday

    Much love...

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  6. What a beautiful memory you have written about in this poem.

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  7. Oh there's nothing like a grandmother's cuddle! Thank you for giving me the memory of mine too, as I read.

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