Winter’s Poem

Silver sky is overcome with mysterious smoke,
No bright burning ball to appreciate
Vegetation seems to be paused: still,
Naked, skeletal trees unwillingly stand
While the harsh whipping wind blows.
Waving like children 
Frozen, deserted wooden spider webs,
Twigs shaped like pincers
Heavy grey clouds in the background
The colour contrast has been turned down,
Boring, dull, colourless and cold,
Teasing us with hazy sunrises and sunsets,
Pink like rose beds, long lost now
The vulnerable plants left, are fighting to stay alive
But battle is too strong, winter has defeated them!
Dead mulch accumulating in every corner,
The smell of damp lingers in the air
Magical, sparkling dust covering the outside, called frost.
Mist everywhere, just like a magician's surreal trick!
Children anxiously wait for the snow,
That splendid airiness snow brings!
Watching intensely every flake softly floating,
Adults moan and grumble about it
A blanket of fresh crunchy layer of white,
Leaving indented prints behind.
Cheerful snow men everywhere!
Delicate snow angels beneath us



  • Maxine Smith

    Reminds me of Christmas.

    A fine write.

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