The following piece is published as part of our TLM Young Writers series, a dedicated section of The London Magazine‘s website which showcases the work of exceptional young talent aged between 13-21, from the UK and beyond.
You are my Winter
Your skin is as pale as the glorious snow that beautifies the naked branches of a lone tree.
Your eyes twinkle like the starry orbs of fire illuminating the night sky.
Your lips shame the marvellous red cherry I suck on as my mind roves unfettered into the imaginary wilderness.
Your ears have listened to stories of splendour, of truth, of gold and of tragedy.
Your nose has delighted itself with the sweet tartly fragrance of strawberry jam on warm toast.
Your hands are wrinkled with the labour of writing, for you caress the wonderful pen with the divine paper and embellish those naked pages with ink.
Your mind finds solace with the August rain, even if it terrorizes us with its hateful force.
My love, you find beauty when others cannot.
My love, you lack riches yet you are rich yourself in every other way.
My love, though you have neither prestige nor royalty, your queenly grace is rivalled by no other.
My love, you are not my Summer.
You are my Winter.
Clare Wong is a 15 year old student at Suzanne Cory High School in Melbourne, Australia. She is originally from Wellington, New Zealand.
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