Destruction beckons, waves a downy wing,
Her breezy voice a whisper: "Come and play!"
Within, I huddle, flames emblazoning
The walls that keep the bitter cold away.

A Southern California boy should stay
Where warmth and sunshine rule as queen and king.
Attractive prices led me far astray:
Destruction beckons, waves a downy wing.

Amongst the snowy fields, the spirits sing
With one, a sort of white and cloudy jay,
Adopting me, I guess, unwavering,
Her breezy voice a whisper: "Come and play!"

She taps the window, moonlight bright as day,
Chiaroscuro loveliness to bring
Delight to any eye that isn't clay.
Within, I huddle, flames emblazoning,

Surrounded, steeped, the heat enveloping
My shaking self. I watch with stark dismay
The icy wind continue buffeting
The walls that keep the bitter cold away.

Between us lies a gulf, a vast array
Of words. It's "brisk" to [i]her[/i]; to [i]me[/i], it's "sting."
She loves a winter night. I can't convey
The pain of frozen blood. Until the spring,
Destruction beckons...