Originally written about a photo a friend posted, the cold still winter outside, bare trees, and the warmth of long canal boat alongside a dock.
Warm Winter Soul
Long ago, once came a winter’s early morning,
As the dull glow of the sun filters through cold clouds,
The snow and ice like frosting through the cherry trees,
A short winter’s journey and a story that flows.
To here, find you walking down the old snow covered dock,
Past the winter birds, while they try to keep warm,
Moving towards the warmth of the long river boat,
Bending down, to run your hands through the snow.
Stepping across, down to a timber deck,
As the warmth gently passes your cheek,
You open the hatch, to see down the long passage,
Soft incandescent lighting, the warmth of a fire,
Loosing all the clothes that kept once the chill winter out,
You move through your domain, the soul of your boat,
Plucking a fine book, a Sherlock adventure of course,
From a passing shelf on your way to such tender warmth,
A fresh hot chocolate from the galley now near,
Getting here closer to your souls warmth, free of fear,
Where to lay down upon the warmth, of a soft sheepskin rug,
To open the first page, with a laugh, and a smile, so snug…