~ The Poet's Place Cafe~

Okay here is my attempt....

It is winter, frigid and bleak.
The snow wraps itself around the meek,
With its white freezing robe of cold.
Affecting both the young and old.
Freezing out the feeble and weak.

The ice, like a mirror on the creek,
Too thick to be shattered by a bird's beak.
Worst winter in years, truth be told.
It is winter.

But through the snow a small bud will peek,
A glimmer of sunshine it will seek.
I am that bud, oh so bold.
Trying to break winter's stronghold.
And through the clouds the sunshine will leak.
It is winter.

Words may come from the head, but poetry comes from the heart!
-Pandapaws