Cold hands, warm heart, they say, <br />And yet, how the cold winds chill my heart today. <br />Creeping within my warmly wrapped attire, <br />Not caring how or when they quench the fire <br />Contained therein. Now the body's frosted to the bone, <br />And to shivers prone, and hands are still so cold. <br />Where are warm gloves sold? <br /> <br />© Ernestine Northover<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/frosted/
