It’s cold here.
So then, I close my eyes
and I imagine things.
I imagine that I
can tip-toe through the daisies
which lie buried under deep snow
I imagine them bloom, and-
then I imagine them grow
into a sea
a sea of utter raw beauty-
you would agree,
if you could just, only close your eyes
and tip-toe through the daisies-
C’mon old man winter,
I am ready for you to stop following me.
I am ready for a sea full of daisies
and the beauty they may bring
a rarity called