In Southern hemisphere,'
Winter flowing past here,
At Jack Frost we peer,'
Happy smiles do appear,
Winter sunshine is sheer,
Roses need a pruning shear,
Moonlit nights all clear,
Not much snow this year,
Not a ski bunny, dear,
Drought is what we fear,
Of farmers' plight we hear,
Send more rain in our sphere,
Looks like El Nino gear.
Spectre, South Pole's chills,
Frost clawing at window sills,
Vague fears, old age thrills....
If I could love thee in a thousand ways
The warmth of the sun's rays on chilly climes
Refreshingly cool breeze on humid days
As the soothing music during bedtimes
Your safe shelter amidst torrential rain
Limitless such as the deep blue ocean
A blazing wildfire that is out of rein
A serenading lover in motion
Fervour of the river to meet the sea
Butterflies drawn to colourful flowers
Dancing on a moonlit night, you and me
Nature’s resurrection after showers
Love is a kaleidoscope of colours
Beloved’s portrait in watercolours
Old Frosty was a snowman
And how he loved that snow!
So crystalline, so pure and white;
Each year he’d grow and grow!
There are so many words for snow,
A winter lover's dream,
and all of them delectable,
especially with cream!
But Frosty isn’t happy
With life lived in the freeze;
He gazes in the mirror and
He likes not what he sees.
So Frosty took some action,
Got terrible advice.
The fix to all his problems:
Carving up that ice.
But when the next big snow blew in,
The plan just turned to ash;
The only thing not quite as big:
His former pile of cash.
The bitter pill to swallow,
As is the case sometimes:
Old Frosty needs a lifestyle change,
A move to warmer climes.
The Temperate Climes
the temperate climes arriving soon
taking possession of what will be hewn
as untrimmed flora will be heaven bound
with new seeds of love the earth will be crowned
rain from the skies will bless holy ground
to lease for awhile and wait while they’re housed
natures complexion is no longer roused
the flowers and plants conjoing as one
continuing life as once there was none
the bracts are mature and forming a bud
the color of gold released from the mud
and bright is the beauty that rests in the shade
and I compare thee as creation made
the external beauty for all to see
a daisy enhanced awaiting a bee
Summers Day Redo Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Michelle Faulkner
July 31, 2019
The first nimbuses have sighed, fresh winds but not meadows
Brooks are brown but composed
It's yet another season to plough our barren love
Sowing between sheets...
29/12/17
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