It is that time again, that time of old
When teeth are being whipped to move because of cold
It is that time of storms, lightening, winds and cloudy darkness with promises of doom that cannot be told
When this strong heart fails to be bold.
It is that time of old,
When pride, for a pesewa can be sold
As emotions roll and refuses the scold
That fumes and threatens with anger untold.
These lightening fails to scare this shivers which enfold
In torrential anger, pushing to be, in arms enrolled
But with a pushy intent, this cold graduates into two, no, three folds
Trust me, a touch, right now, could earn more than gold
But where is that touch of gold?
Where can I these hands of gold mould?
If only these whippy shivers could be controlled
Then I could these thoughts withhold
No! No! No! These thoughts, I must, I must, I must hold.
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014.
Mum Cee 
2 replies on “THIS TIME OF COLD”
Thank you the Great Villagethinker.
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When asked why I profile MomC, I tell them she is the #EMPRESS of Creative Writing.
I am an ADDICT to your persona.
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