As it is now well into the winter season, here is a poem to celebrate it.
Winter
Everything dead.
Nothing moves.
The skies of lead
Press down on the roofs.
The icicles hang
Like teeth in the maw.
Each one a fang
In a wolf’s jaw.
The wind with his knife
Cuts through to the bone.
Soon snow will arrive
And the swallows have flown.
The trees that were green
Are now turned to white,
And everything’s seen
In a glowing bright light.
But look what I’ve found!
A tiny green shoot
Pushing up through the ground.
A snowdrop, no doubt.
It tells of the spring
Not so far away,
And how it will bring
All the flowers of May.
I hope you enjoyed reading my poem. I would love to hear what you think of it.
Do you enjoy poetry? Many people don’t, and poetry books, it is said, don’t sell very well, but I find that some of my most popular posts are my poems.
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