Coming across on the first encounter

There, in the glacial part of my freezer

A red bag full of frigid solidity

A sack of tubes, holed and rock hard

A reminder of a smile, of a favorable

and fortunate time

Another image, shocking red pants

And a scarf covered neckline

of a face whose smile could catch

a thousand younglings

What does bring him here at this hour

an adventure perhaps, or a meeting of old minds

I ventured unto their table

A cold sneer and an even icier greeting

This face, the persona and being

that could capture and break a myriad of faces

and of a manifold melting hearts

In the end I hope and pray that not one of them

Not one of them belongs to his own

Too lovely is his face to be broken by tears

Rumours,

A place from where the young ones fled

12:56 am