My Little Lagoon

winter had come
to my little lagoon,
‘ere the water’s still,
can't swim, nor swoon.
 
propelled no more
by the waves I’d known –
engulfed by chill,
'pon the beach was thrown.
 
so I stepped away
from this frozen pond –
that fertile lake,
of which I’m fond –
 
to dip my toes
in distant streams;
yet the thaws I sought
bore deluded dreams …

... tepid dreams,
to which I shan't return –
surely not whilst this heart
thirsts and yearns ...

... for *you* ...

... my 'little lagoon.'