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