PoetryMine Poetry Mine

The snow is falling, covering the ground,
grass, shrubs and trees painted white all around.
Children laugh with glee as they build a snowman,
the girls insisting it’s a snow-woman named Anne.

My wife and I decide on a wonderland stroll,
the beauty of nature’s winter to extol.
On go bulky coats, gloves, furry hats and tall boots,
we playfully call “ top of the line winter suits”.

We find the blue lake in cold frozen splendor,
skaters gracefully skim by in pairs of each gender.
Looming beyond, to a white mountain we shift our gaze
and see skiers whizz along in a freshly powdered maze.

Down the snow covered path through dense woods we go,
and scatter Brazil nuts from home to hungry animals bestow.
We sit down on a frosty log and watch with pleasure,
as a pair of rabbits emerge and eat their measure.

I laughed at my wife, saying her face was beet red,
“And yours isn’t?” she freezingly, wheezingly said.
We agreed it was time for our winter’s trek to end,
and we headed for home shivering, around an icy bend.

We reached our abode in the day’s waning light,
with barely enough time before day became night,
quickly set up a bird feeder and filled it with grain,
knowing birds found food in the winter hard to obtain.

Although we had thoroughly enjoyed our wintry walk,
inside I headed for our fireplace with no sign of a balk,
to build a rip roaring fire with real seasoned wood,
while my wife made her special hot cider as only she could.

Sitting by the fire we warmed and thawed, discussing our day,
saying how winter can be harsh, but also fun times convey.
It gives proof to the old adage “Life is what you make of it”,
and a frigid winter has certain pleasures we had to admit.