 The house sits quiet, stunned into silence. Whiteness, shone forth like a blinding ray. Rareness, for a Southern day.  The coldness doth come. On occasions so rare Never lingering Evaporated Gone into thin air  Beautiful to some, the perfect colored balls Shivering, Suspended Frozen in time Where is the warmth, Where is the breeze It's pretty, we know But we're beginning to freeze  Southern snowfall, unusual to see Unusual still, to stay past day three Ol' man winter, please take a trip Loosen, your hold, and release your icy grip. |
Monday, January 17, 2011
Winter's Icy Grip
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5 comments:
Winter house . Thx for sharing such nice pic
Liked the poem, and the pretty pcs,Blessings jane
I didn't know you were a poet! Great verse. The snow really does look like a blanket on your roof!
I am so ready for it to be gone here, too. But we are supposed to get rain later. That means mud and chill and dreariness!
Oh the first picture is very impressive! It will make a clatter when the snow tumbles. I can relate to the sentiments in your poem too. Stay warm!
Well, thank you for the charming poem! And I hope you have a slow melt.
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