We don’t talk much any more,
Our hands, too frozen to hold;
Warm kisses are memories,
This home now stands icy cold.
 
The frigid weather came in,
Clutching us in it's cold vice;
Freezing our hearts solid,
As the Arctic’s glacier ice.
 
This ice house yearns for warm love,
To melt away this chilled freeze;
Yet, we urge mercury’s fall,
And get colder by degrees.
 
It’s cold in this ice house,
Hate-cicles hang by desire;
Frostbite may soon take our love,
While neither kindles the fire.
 
Written by Loyd Taylor, January 18, 2009

THE ICE HOUSE
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Thank you so much for you visit, Loyd