winter's wind

The wind went howling through the trees and the house and her heart. Winter came for a visit as
Spring had been quite impertinent in its early arrival. Forced its way in, really, without warning. And truth be told, Winter enjoys the bite it brings. Frozen tears on melancholy mornings make for such romantic tales that Winter simply thinks too highly of its time on stage.

Yet we must ask ourselves why. Why does Winter hold such a grip on our hearts? Why do we let it take hold? Why do we not stoke the fires hotter and bake more bread daily?

The wind is whistling now. Trying to change its tune, but I won't be fooled. Winter is settling in, and I'll let it.

Highfalutin Mumbo Jumbo

Dragging her body throughout her living quarters, she realized something. She was quite unwell. Whether it be in body, mind, or heart was still to be determined, but she understood enough to know that something vital was amiss and must be put aright, one way or another.

The bothersome hives she awoke to mid night's rest the previous evening could be responsible, yet her heart had been ill at ease for many a month. Yes, that is correct month. If only it could be days or weeks even, but no, her struggle with love had grown into a war, stripping everyone involved of their smiles and warmth.

So, instead of making her head ache more with concentration, the lady retired to her bed to rest, only to awake from a nap which had privily stole away most of her day. Contentment remained elusive, yet she was able to indulge in a sense of delicious rejuvenation from the bodily drain she had had to bear.