Rose-Coloured Flames Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

Let me register my thoughts with the wind. 
And hear them untethered sing. 
Like bluebells in the falling snow
Sapphires are melting in my heart. 
But I am as frozen as a river that no man dares to walk upon..
Unless he is willing to grope in the dark 
And find nothing in a lover's loose talk.
Let me fine-tune the music I sing. 
Eliminate the harshest wind.. 
That rattles like a beast the window panes. 
Till all is broken glass and splintered frames 
And rose-coloured flames 
Rising because no one with affection remembers their name.