by cricketjeff on January 12, 2011. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
The pure white coat that hides the rest within–
The sun that crowns the frostiest of days,
The calming break that lets new life begin.
As winters will, she changes all my dreams;
What came before is now just memory;
I feel the hope, like drinks from frost-fed streams;
Refreshing cold that tastes of wine to me.
And yet she is the beauty of the spring–
The balmy airs of summer in the trees;
She’s autumn nights, when blackbirds learn to sing,
She’s every season’s changes on the breeze.
But in my heart she’s Winter’s deep desire,
Two lips to kiss on nights before the fire.
I started out to try to write a sonnet as Pope would have done had he written any, but reading through after the event I see more Wordsworth or Frost; certainly not Pope.
I therefore put this here for now but will maybe try again