Best Snowballing Poems

The hill I climbed though tough and slow,
Had glistened in the morning snow.
When at the top, I scooped the ground,
As in my hands, I rolled it round.

Then as I stood upon the ledge,
I placed the ball at mountain’s edge.
I gave a push with sly intent,
And...

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Only thirty-three tries times ten plus three,
not a sacred sweep more or a line less;
That looks like an angel number to me;
Numerology with style to impress 
whispers gently speaking eloquently;
‘Writers bring the world fervor and finesse.
As the Muse sends torrential stars falling,
onto the page letters...

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