Where Winter Dares a Kiss

Above the door, a green surprise
Hangs brave against December skies;
White berries glow like held replies—
The mistletoe.

It waits where laughter loosens ties,
Where passing glances start to rise;
A pause, a blush, a shared disguise—
The mistletoe.

No vow is sworn, no spell is cast,
Just breath held close, a moment fast;
Then footsteps fade, the chance goes past—
Yet winter smiles, for love still grows
In small, unscheduled overshows—
The mistletoe.