Snow Days
Where snowflakes melt to nostalgic dreams
of candy cane wishes and white memories,
a child with red cheeks made friends with bare trees
and a mother made cocoa with mounds of whipped cream.
With glistening hillsides, sleds came out to race,
our innocence pure in fresh Christmas snow.
Then, night skies of flurries fell in starry glow
and formed constellations on fields of white lace.
Snow flurries frolic to wake long ago -
snow angels made with red scarf and shawl.
Both knitted by grandma for her little doll,
who quickly turned tomboy with packed balls of snow.
My lawn powdered white, a peaceful night scene,
conjures up magic and youth’s merriment -
icicles, snowmen, and hours of fun spent
in a sparkling splendor of falling snow’s sheen.
Snowflakes melt away on a little girl’s tongue.
I held my breath till my mom called snow day;
then, exhilarated called each flake to play
and dance beautifully to the wind’s carol sung.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
written 11/16/15
For the contest, Trashed #4, Sponsor - Broken Wings
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015
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