King Winter

Though the temperature be near sixty there's a chill in the air--
the sun is trying to dispel it but Jack Frost put it there.
With the winter season at hand--
snow is waiting in the wings to toss her blanket of white over the land.
The leaves have left the trees all naked and bare--
the song birds have left for the south, no beautiful music fills the air.
All cozy and warm by the fireplace, the wind is howling outside--
Jack Frost painting the windows with his usual amount of pride.
You may long for the spring to return to you--
but in the meantime think of all the wonderful things one can do.
There are hayrides and sleigh rides with bells a jingling--
ice skating on the pond, your fingers a tingling.
One can hunt for small game to fill the cook's pot--
one can think of the happy hours your youth has brought.
It's only natural to dream of Spring and of Summer that is soon to follow--
to want to fish in the pond or watch the masterpiece being built by the barn swallow
But in the meantime make peace with yourself and enjoy the wintertime--
'ere your youth slips away and it's your life's evening tide.

by Audrey B. Dodge

Other poems of AUDREY B. DODGE (2)

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.