Winter does strike hard, 
Especially at those who live, 
Only on memories.  

Emily Bronte suffered, 
On the barren Yorkshire moors, 
As did Keats in Rome. 

Heathcliff and Cathy, 
Grecian urn and Fanny Braun, 
Emmenay and Daphne. 
All true spirits we are: 
In our poems, stories, novels, 
Our inner self we reveal. 

Let it snow and rain, 
Let cold fury be unleashed,  
Our hearts' light still shines. 

Our beloved ones breathe, 
In our prose profiles and poems, 
Our love-embers are warmth. 

I often meet Heathcliff, 
At peace in Emily's arms, 
Emily -- Cathy. 

I once rode with Keats, 
Braving the blizzard on a coach, 
Fanny waits with Daphne. 

Created different, 
From the rest of this sad world, 
Our loves do not die.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The names of Heathcliff, Cathy, Emily Bronte, John Keats and Daphne are all unsurpassed symbols of true love. I have mentioned the Grecian Urn drawing a parallel to what Keats found inscribed on it: "Truth is beauty, beauty truth; That is all ye know and all ye ever need to know". Daphne is the name of my schoolmate who became my first and everlasting love, destined to define me when I am no more...just as Heathcliff and Cathy set apart Emily Bronte while Fanny makes Keats distinct and distinguished among all the poets of the romantic era...nay....forever.