The hills that once were gold and red
Are now a deep gray and barren instead,
Awaiting the first drape of winter’s white
Snow, or ice crystals sparkling in the light,
When they become a fairyland of fantasy
A sleigh ride through the bowered canopy,
Headlining the holiday season’s pageantry
Like on Christmas cards a frequent sight
A walk in the frosty hills is such a delight
Or bundled tight for a ride on a bobsled,
Steaming chocolate, and a warm cozy bed.
Written November 10, 2022
[Verso Rhyme Scheme
a/a/b/b/c/c/c/b/b/a/a]
TENTH PLACE WINNER
submitted to "2022 Marathon Lap 20" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mark Toney
Categories:
bowered, fun, winter,
Form: Rhyme
Spring chased old man winter from his place
And silenced him with her capricious face
Sometimes a tear, sometimes a smile;
She would beguile
My lazy feet
To dance in some leafy bowered retreat.
When dreamy delightful summer flies
And looks at me with laughing eyes;
She draws me to her clover fields
And my heart yields
To her winsome wooing
And her siren song is my undoing.
One day I saw the sudden flare
Of autumn's wind blown crimson hair;
She stirred the whispering leaves and then
I felt again
A yearning glow
Of years remembered long ago
And I lived the dream I never knew
Of lost memories and my love for you.
Categories:
bowered, seasons, me,
Form: Rhyme