L Milton Hankins Poet Terza Rima

Winter Winds

Winter winds blustery, keen, and bold
Blast their way across denuded meadow
Ushering in north’s bitter cold

Shaking their fists with much bravado
Bending low the towering sages
Leaving not a trace of phantom shadow

Like summer’s violent thunderstorm rages
Frightening all the furry little creatures
Scurrying about in various stages

Most feared of all the winter features
The scary, howling through a shingled roof
Like a Sunday morning’s manic preachers

Though unseen they need no proof
The winter winds do not remain aloof.

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Caren Krutsinger December 16, 2021 at 6:23 AM You have done winter proud here, Hank. Your description brought winter quickly into my heart. L Milton Hankins December 16, 2021 at 9:04 AM You know, Caren, I sort of like this terza rima pattern myself. It is wintry, indeed!

Delice Arleen Skelly December 16, 2021 at 5:32 AM Ooh, winter winds whistle through this piece of writing...Delice L Milton Hankins December 16, 2021 at 9:06 AM Thanks, Delice. I hate to hear the whistling sound the winds make. And, of course, we had that recent tragedy here in Kentucky. I appreciate your interest in my poetry, Delice.