Gloomy, gray skies meet my eyes.
No merry ray to light my way,
No sunny shaft to stir my heart.
Willful Winter blasts and blows.
Wind and sleet and falling snows
Chilly fingers curling down,
Twirling down,
Swirling round.
One last gasp
One last grasp
King this day is he.
Silvery Spring, though fast asleep,
Yesterday did wear
Daffodil and crocus fair
And robins in her wispy hair.
Silvery Spring, though sleeping deep,
Dreams of the day
That now must keep,
Babbling brooks
gentle breeze
dancing, tender grasses.
One last nap
One last sleep
Slumbering this day is she.
© B. J. Donaldson, 2016, All rights reserved.
This sounds like Denver today. Yesterday we had “Silvery Spring,” seventy degree temperatures and daffodils and crocuses. Today we have “wWillful Winter” again- 15 inches of snow. Reading your post, I am wondering, do you live in Colorado too?
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No, I live in the Midwest. This storm was huge!
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Enjoyed the mindful use of personification and alliteration in your poem. You captured the sense of winter’s last gasp and inattentive spring. I also noted the cadence of your lines and the effective use of repetition. Your writing has much to attract both my eye and my ear. Thank you. your poet’s heart shines through here.
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Beautiful poem!
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