Photograph taken by Theresa F. Koch~ North Pole, Alaska.
The lights of the city cry blinding my sight
Fly frozen breath in the icy cold night
Darkness around taps on shoulders so soft
Making me wish I could jump straight across
Beautiful colors are set so far away
Beckoning calling in a freakish odd play
Almost romantic the way that you prance
Making me jump up swaying in a trance
Crack of a branch someone else feels a pull
Calling to the living in this forest you lure
I watch as they walk toward the weird pulse
Putting them on an magical light calling course
Turning my back from the spell that you weave
Slipping on the ice falling about I then leave
Not looking back for I’ll freeze in the night
Walking to the light in this arctic cold plight
Theresa, as usual my gifted friend, you are able to easily draw your avid readers towards the wondrous beauty and have us all knowingly embrace the security of the comfort one can only find, from seeing the light! Excellent poetry and your pictures always illuminate the pathway you’re taking us upon. Thank you for sharing your work. Take good care and be well.
ah wonderful and tantalizing write, having been to the North Pole in my youth serving on a Canadain Icebreaking ship I found this one stirring memories long forgotten. Thank you for reminding me of such great times and sights and sounds of the arctic.
You penned a beauty in this frigid write where degrees are measured below zero. Brrrrr
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on August 11, 2005
Yes, always to the light because the light gives us a feeling of safety against the unknow creatures who slither around in the gloom, whether we are in a jungle, our one of our major cities. Good poem.
Rosetta was born in 1909 as the youngest of ten children. The family had more laughter than money and neighbors would knock on their door to ask, "Can we come in and laugh, too?"
After a long awaited weekend visitation caused by false allegations of sexual abuse, Glen got to see his children for the first time in over two months. He promised them that they would never be apart again and then they disappeared.
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Always drawn to the light
Even if it's our doom
like a butterfly drawn to the fire
This is beautiful. :) Wish I were walking to the Lights with you!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :)
It looks like a corona of lights...Beautiful!
Eileen
Felix
Your photography is amasing!!
Love Tinka