Frosted crinkled crystals sat upon the five bar gate
Sentry to the streams and turnpikes
Blessed as the very day that we wait
All the while we listen outright, touch the frost atop
The five bars; held together by diagonal slants
Swung on and off the blacksmiths curled hinges
In the stillness, on the stiff crumpled grass
Sparkled sharpness of the dampness frozen
Moments as later breathe air of kingdoms passed
Look closely at your clothes, your skin
All of the outside of within
Think on that fair scented hair shampoo
And the bath salts
In your early morning hot water soak
Later, in the library or bookshop
Or perhaps the Methodist Tea Rooms
Sit in the happiness of this sunlight
Read these or someone else's words
Dream of pancakes for tea
With treacle and maple syrup
And dollops of vanilla ice cream
Then, even though it's not politically correct
Take a cigarette
Inhale and exhale your love
Puff away, rub your thumbs and fingers
Wipe off the gathered ice
From your well worn shoes
Even without the snow
It's good to go into the mist
Beyond the stream, out into the clearing
