Winter Leaves

The winds icy fingers carres
The windows  and doors
Winter softly whispers in
The eaves and down the
Chimney, "Come away,
Away and dance with me
Like the dried out leaves
That tumble over and over
Down the road,  free at last
From restraining bonds.
But I am here warm in bed
Listening to the icy invitation
And knowing that such
Freedom has a price
I will not pay despite the urging of My soul to dance and run
Like those leaves dancing to
Oblivion.