PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

by Brenda Williams

1966

It was early one morning; late that night,

When I rose from my bed to behold such a sight.



The snow had just fallen upon our city so fair,

There was a crisp, clean, fresh feeling in the air.



It came without warning, so fast and thick,

It reminded me somewhat of old Saint Nick.



Chicago was covered with snow head to toe,

It was beautiful, but surprising though.



The snow had covered it all, short and tall,

Hardly leaving enough room for more to fall.



With all the fury of hell it did blow,

The strong swift winds from here below.



Like waves that raise high against the cliffs,

So did the snow as it formed into drifts.



Chicago was a halt - every thing stood still.

Like a great lighthouse high on a hill.



But the lighthouse gave not a single warning,

No one knew until it came that morning.



Though it came to Chicago by surprise,

As strong winds blew the drifts did rise.



Some say it came from hell;  others claim Heaven,

That horrid snowstorm of 1967.