Sat in the car one November Saturday afternoon ~ a typical Winters afternoon – freezing, pouring down with rain and bleak, this poem came to me…..
And now you prevail merely a beginning,
And already I`m disheartening.
You are not Summer or Spring romancing
And even Autumn I keep in holding.
You descend promise-less,
You descend a lock key-less.
A charmless gift that lingers impatience-less,
Untied in dried grass dreamless,
In aromas of bitterness,
From the baked sun of June`s end amiss
Do not let earth walk in sleep,
For I`m helpless in weeping,
With flora absent, few creatures peeping,
In this contemplation before me, Winter a sweep.
No hue left, does seep,
To ease these long drawn short days steeped
A negative of seasons reaped.
In this January day in brown,
How will I stir, when morning light in frown?
Un-ascending till lunch touch-down.
And all I sight is scare and brown,
In this cupboard bare-down.
You are not ones season of best!
I become bluer still with dark-some, rested,
Before me and more-so unblessed,
In these days of night, frozen of zest.
The heart freezing still under-vest.
You cast the canvas white,
Each solum morn light.
Blowing feather and fur a brutal breath bite,
Leaving tiny beats a mountain plight.
As I`m earthed beside a burning timber light,
Not prevailing till daffodils in sight.
~ By K.S Blackmore
Does Winter make you sigh….. ?