When frosty window, reminiscing palm grazed,
In needs of removing gathering haze,
Impulsively, the words, shaky hand traced,
On wintry window, the ghost of a name.
Frosty window, now epithet holds,
Also her life, her dreams, her soul,
Frosty window, cold, with morning dew clinging,
With past concealed in simple a spelling.
To frosty window, wander yearning eyne,
Stopping at the name, forthwith inscribed.
In many moist and teary a letter,
Piety and love are rediscovered.
One word it taketh to tell the tale,
Of prince, who so quickly bade,
Goodbye in so much of a haste,
Never to come back again.
One word, it taketh, to considerably seize,
Flavor of amorous reverie,
In one word, the frosty window bitterly orates,
The story of a girl, in such a sorry state.
No matter the torment, no matter the pain,
No matter hollow promises, no matter her bane,
No matter the woe, no matter the grief,
The name on frosty window is special, so she thinks.
The sun now emerges, he curiously peeks,
With her emotions, playing hide-and-seek,
In fiery determination, he easily steals,
The loving memory on window she had tried to keep.
Erased is the memory, lost is the word,
Clear is the window, laconic, unadorned,
But clouded is the mind, vague and displaced,
Lost in the name on window, so it shall remain.
The songbird sang at 7:56 pm on the 15th of December 2009.
