MURDERS AND LOVERS

 

 

Read a book by the warm fire.

Moments can’t get any brighter.

Let the snow fall outside.

I will keep warm inside.

No need to fight the drifts.

I’ll stay with the misfits.

The ones who prefer books

that grab you with their hooks.

The fire is getting low.

The winds are about to blow.

I snuggled further beneath the covers

as I read about murders and lovers.

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THE DICTATES OF OLD MAN WINTER

flowersgardenlove:

 

The epic battle of the seasons.

Old Man Winter 

erase all signs of Fall.

Snow covers the ground.

Tree limbs hang low dripping white.

Fall holds her branches

close to her body.

Some have already fallen.

The lone casualties of war.

The battle rages on.

Fall will have to succumb

to the dictates of Old Man Winter.

She has no choice.

She puts up a valiant battle.

She will be back after Summer

finishes heating the earth.

She bows her head.

WHITE BLANKET OF SNOW

White Blanket of Snow

WHITE BLANKET OF SNOW

The snow is falling.

Flakes float to the ground.

A hush falls across the city.

Few cars dare to brave the roads.

Too soon for building snowmen.

Footsteps have yet to marr

the white surface.

A white blanket.

Sparkling clean.

The city is refreshed.

Its sins covered.

A rebirth.

THE DEAD AND GONE

black sparkle rose

THE DEAD AND GONE

A town where the snow is black,
bringing coldness and fear.
Old remnants of tears held back,
and times too hard to bear.

Woven from black sheets of rain,
fear covers in disarray.
Anguished and frozen with pain,
dark petals fall in dismay.

Hell has come to Oasis,
The Dead and gone at its side.
Now hidden behind faces
that are well-known far and wide.

Who will fall prey to The Dead?
I hope it is not me.
I’m hiding under my bed.
I’m afraid as I can be.

THE DEAD GAME
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MOON SHADOW

My favorite poem. I had to share it again.

 
 
MOON SHADOW
I live in the shadow of the moon.
I have grown and sprouted much too soon.
I will try with all my might
To live in the bright sunlight.
I close my eyes but yet I’m still here.
Sitting on a branch next to a pear.
My petals are white as snow
Because of this fact I know.
I will never be awake at day
No matter how hard I wish and pray.
For I live in the shadow of the moon 
And I’m slated to sing the nightly tune.