Icicles
Drip drip go the icicles,
Hanging from the frozen gutter,
Plinking off the bicycles,
Falling with a splutter.
Blip blip go the icicles,
Dripping from their glassy towers,
Twinkling in their endless cycles,
Melting in icy showers.
Crik crik go the icicles,
Freezing in the darkened hours,
Growing beards in icy cycles,
Til come the springtime flowers.
Warmer breezes melting snow,
‘Way goes winter’s chilly freeze,
Dripping go the icicles,
Up white snowdrop petals squeeze.
Copyright © Kiana Dobre | Year Posted 2023
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