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Curse Not the Cold of Winter

Curse not the cold of winter, For by its own device— The landscape is made linen; The castles are of ice. And of the angels in the snow, By spring they fly away— Leaving me to pray for cold, That they might longer stay. So beside the crackling fire, My imagination, free— I curse not the cold of winter... Being warm as I can be!

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Sandra Adams

Date: 8/18/2019 11:01:00 AM

if words alone could paint a postcard this one would be a winner....your imagery is gorgeous! I curse winter when i have to venture out in it, but from the warmth of indoors i admire the beauty within its breath...great write!

Kenneth R. Merrill
Date: 9/8/2019 2:14:00 PM

Thank you my friend! I can’t think of a nicer comment, that I painted a picture with words—ever my goal—and to evoke an emotion or provoke a thought, or two. Thank you again, Sandra ;-)

Gershon Wolf

Date: 7/21/2019 6:51:00 PM

The imagery in the first stanza is to die for: 'The landscape is made linen // The castles are of ice.' Wondrous and wonderful. Best wishes, Gershon

Kenneth R. Merrill
Date: 7/21/2019 10:03:00 PM

Thank you, my friend. Best wishes to you as well. It’s nice to be read by a poet who recognizes and appreciates such imagery, challenging as it is!