Memories of Winter
Memories of Winter
Winter, tell me why it is,
You come at such a price?
Your snow is nice, and winds as well,
But rain’s no match for ice.
Dreary autumns end
Is something dismal to behold.
It reeks of damp, of must and cold,
Unlike what will unfold.
For winter in these farmers towns,
Is cold and clean and bright,
And the smell of snow is crisp and fresh,
As calm as death at night.
To stand amongst the crystal trees,
And attend to single snowflakes,
In the woods when all is covered,
Is enough to make your heart shake.
So in memory of beloved winter
I write this mournful piece,
Pining the time when the rains will end
And the snow is thick on the trees.
March 29th, 2009 at 2:36 pm
I always enjoy reading the creative act when the seasons change, as people on this site seem to derive much inspiration from the changing of seasons.
As for your poem, the beat is very nice, very easy to read. The imagery was also very nice, the stanza: “For winter in these farmers towns,
Is cold and clean and bright,
And the smell of snow is crisp and fresh,
As calm as death at night.” I thought was particularly good, for some reason, when people talk about sounds in their work it conjures more imagery for me than when actual places are being described.
In any case sir, a job well done, I can’t wait to hear what you do for summer.
April 2nd, 2009 at 12:15 pm
Farewell to love,a beautiful poem,I love it…
April 4th, 2009 at 7:32 pm
This is excellent, the flow and structure go really nice. Your imagery through out the poem is strong and effective too. Nice going.