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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #2212419
These are some thoughts some may have regarding winter.
The snowy cold rain fell down on the plain, where the horses are free, and there's white on their manes.

The cattle were weary when the battle was won, and they became cheery when they laid in the sun.

The grass had some class when the music began; the brass was so beautiful when it developed a lass.

The meaning was clear when I tried to explain; the terrain was rough as the cold winds blew; a whirlwind of doubt began to brew.

The thrill was lost when it started to chill, and the breeze filled the air with a bit of despair.

Conscious thoughts will soon reveal, that what I've known are becoming real. The zeal of a meal would comfort my nerves; it's time to get a good hors d'oeuvre.

The snow, cold, and rain collided, never knowing what they had provided; all in all, they were divided. They were doing their job, they all concluded, but the rain began to sob, the snowy white was blowy, and it was told that the cold was very bold, as it rolled into winter.

The snowy cold rain was a pain to explain; the picture was a dis by many. Since we were looking for spring, it was disdained, and that my friend is a very good thing.

Written By Anna Marie Carlson
Saturday, February 8, 2020
© Copyright 2020 Anna Marie Carlson (annamc.poet at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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