Home » Poems » Constance La France » It Was Snowing

It Was Snowing


It snowed and snowed on the day I was born,
And for that reason I love falling snow;
In dreams, I walk the frozen woods till morn;
And from my pen the words just drip and flow.

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March 25, 2016

Iambic Pentameter

writingiambic pentameter

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Justin Bordner

April 6, 2016 at 9:27 PM

A blizzard of blue and violet beauty vibrates excitedly in the winterized landscape of your reclusive heart, where it be not frozen to breath upon your lips nor cold to the touch of love sweet Constance...I love winter and it's glorious mood and storms, I so feel and know the beauty of this poem. You are beautiful, and I think of your poetry often Wings of Fire...Justin A FAV!!

Constance La France

April 6, 2016 at 10:22 PM

Justin, thank you for that beautifully poetic comment, I just love it and for the fav !

Timothy Hicks

March 27, 2016 at 10:07 PM

Afraid I can't help you with the iambs, as my untrained ear is hopeless in deciphering the "metric feet" ... all I can say is that I enjoyed the way your words flowed. "In dreams, I walk the frozen woods till morn" ... I've walked in the backyard of my grandma's snow-covered cabin, during winter, for quite awhile listening to Linkin Park's My December ... almost gives me goosebumps thinking of the nostalgia!

Constance La France

March 28, 2016 at 9:01 AM

Timothy, thanks for visiting with that lovely comment, I believe that I am getting this pentameter thing, I have a lot of woods near my home and there is nothing more magical than walking the paths when it is snowing, you can hear the snowflakes whispering ~