Closer to the winter solstice
when darkness chokes me
with his mucous fingers,
hugs me closer to despair
I remember summer nights
when lady sun excused herself
to wrap herself in Cotton-candy
clouds to briefly nap before she
woke me with the blackbird’s song
Today Mish hosts the quadrille at dVerse where the word we must include is candy. We just have to give the rest of the 43 words for a total of 44 words.
December 12, 2022
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Ah, that brief summer nap – briefer for you than us! Lovely contrasting here Bjorn.
Oh how I love it when the days are long and sunny. You’ve captured winter’s claustrophobia well here and also wisely chose to escape (as I did in my poem) to a more pleasant place.
we have snow here in England and your poem has me craving summers warmth.
Lady Sun in cotton candy clouds….LOVE it!
Warm Wishes Björn Stay Healty
Much💌love
This is so good!
Such a wonderful personification of lady sun, a lost love, your partner in those long summer days.
“when lady sun excused herself
to wrap herself in Cotton-candy
clouds to briefly nap before she
woke me with the blackbird’s song”
That is really gorgeous. I am in awe of that stunning piece of artwork.
I love this seasonal imagery, Björn!
Those mucous fingers are a real thing with all my sinus issues! The heater dries me out. You describe those clouds so brilliantly!
Those days of Lady Sun wrapping herself in Cotton-candy clouds can’t return fast enough for me. Until then I have my electric blanket.
Loved the contrasts between the seasons in this poem. Nicely done quadrille.
Beautiful Björn… 🙂
Your longing for summer so palpable! Lovely.
mucous fingers and cotton-candy clouds… great images there, Bjorn.
Oh, oh, those cotton candy nights. May they forever sweeten our memories.
I see you went dark for this one too, Björn. We’re just not jolly candy kind of poets, are we? I especially like the image of darkness choking ‘with his mucous fingers’ and hugging ‘closer to despair’, with just a hint of light in the memory of summer nights and the blackbird’s song.
I like the rhythm of this, the run-ons. And agree wholeheartedly.
Sigh …longing for the absent is so universal.
You’ve captured the cabin fever of winter well here.
‘darkness choking ‘with his mucous fingers’ of I felt that.
Ah, that cloying closing in of winter that summer escapes us from.
Lovely especially ‘to wrap herself in Cotton-candy
clouds’
Cotton candy yes, but a bittersweet poem. I like the blackbird’s song at the end.
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