in these leaves
we are writ
in the golden greens
of breathing springs
and in softened hues
of fading fires
I will hold you as
memory in winter
and not feel cold
come creeping
I will keep you as
kisses in summer
and in sprouting drown
but once a year
and always
in your earth
© Sarah Whiteley
ebbtide 
Like the warmth from a hearth you words remove winter’s chill.
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This is lovely Sarah.
On a cold, wet, grey November morning I find myself warmed.
I am going to add you to my blogroll as I suspect I am going to want to come back and visit in the future.
David
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Thank you, David! I’m glad to have offered some warmth in my small way. I’ll be certain to visit you as well…
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It’s like a waterbottle wrapped in cotton wool. A warm moment.
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Thank you, Martin! Sounds like something I’d like to crawl into bed with… 🙂
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Reading felt like being covered in a warm glow, lovely.
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Lovely, warmth in words. 🙂
There’s a book that I have, by a Native American author, which talks of observing and experiencing the beauty of the warmer seasons to hold and remember when it is cold. Your poem reminds me of that and of how warming remembering a loved one can be.
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Oh I like that! I think I always on some subconscious level do that… it’s nice to know someone’s written about it.
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