Weathery Winter

Snow sliding down the roof;

Balling down balls by children I hear i joyous cries;

The gushing chilly wind on the window sill;

Reclaimed on a Chair;

Sat My Dear old Grandapa,

Trembling with coldness draped all around;

He wanted to be out;

But health woud'nt permit;

Quipped he from his coffee;

Amanda, dear I live on fun;

When young I experienced it;

Now I hear it! ! !

I realized Life's adaptability brings joyous joy;

That we create and it gets created! !

by madhumitha murali

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