Snowglobe Memories
A world contained within a fragile sphere,
A silent scene that conquers time and fear.
I lift the globe, a universe so small,
And in its glass, the cherished moments call.
I shake the base, the tiny flakes arise,
A gentle storm that dances, whirls, and flies,
Obscuring briefly all that lies beneath,
A winter’s breath, a delicate, white wreath.
Then, settling slow, the quiet comes again,
The painted house, the path I knew back then,
The miniature figures, fixed in happy play,
A perfect, changeless, everlasting day.
It is an ode to what I can’t forget,
A time capsule where souls in miniature met.
The world outside may rush, and tilt, and change,
But in this glass, no life feels lost or strange.
A moment held against time’s steady flow,
My happy place, where loved ones seem to grow.
I watch the flurries fall, then linger near,
And keep the best of every vanished year
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