Dead of Winter
Did I tell you of my season -
Easily where I'd rather be
All this snow without a reason
Dead leaves I would prefer to see
Only madness lives in hoar frost
For whiteness saturates the brain
Who would ask how much the door cost
Inside of which you found such pain
Nothing but drabness fills our eyes
Though once of crimson and of gold
Even gloom will fill the sun rise
Rather than laugh we'll dread the cold
9/6/2017
For contest Acrostic for Fall or Winter for Janice Canerdy
Copyright © Larry Bradfield | Year Posted 2017
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