PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Cold lifeless buds hang still ’pon distant oak,

with ne’er a hint short frigid days might warm,

and creatures burrowed deep ‘neath winter’s cloak,

still sleep ‘midst yet another bitter storm.

Roof edges groan, but bear their cold decree,

as ice hangs thick and long in crystal spears,

and waits the sun’s long kisses, soon to be,

to wane in melting drops like joyful tears.

Intrepid winds shake window’s frosted panes,

while chimneys exhale plumes in smoky haze,

for Old Man Winter sings one more refrain,

benumbing songs of cold and blustery days.

Awaken Mother Earth from winter’s clutch,

entice a spring’s rebirth with Old Sol’s touch.