The cold days grow longer
The Sun still slinking away before the day is done
Heavens cracked and snow poured forth
Ice hid sneakily under the heaping piles of deceiving whiteness
Clouds once white start turning grey and heavy
As the Rain grinds deep into banks of snow
The Wet snow sinks heavily into the ground
Mixing snow and rain to slush that freezes in irregular patterns
of foot prints and shovel tracks and half melted shapes
Winter rushing in had tripped and turned to spring
Poetry about the light within the dark and the dark within the light. Nature and the sense and feelings it provokes.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Grandfather Clock
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
Goes the Grandfather Clock
at the end of the hall
to the right
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
The pendulum swings.
Ticking away the minutes,
the hours of the days
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
With the face of the sun
and eyes of the moon
Stands the Grandfather Clock all alone
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
The key has been lost
for over a year
and still it goes
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
The chime rings clear
Down the hall in the parlor we hear
the strike of noon
Then...
We wait
Held breath in anxious pause
Has it rung its last toll?
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
Goes the Grandfather Clock
at the end of the hall
to the right
Friday, January 6, 2012
The First Snow Fall
The first snow falls
and the woods grow white
The mighty fir trees rise out
from blankets heaped high of snow
Their ever greens peaking through
Silence has fallen
Even the wind speaks in hush tones
Whistling through the trees
No creature is viable
and the woods grow white
The mighty fir trees rise out
from blankets heaped high of snow
Their ever greens peaking through
Silence has fallen
Even the wind speaks in hush tones
Whistling through the trees
No creature is viable
The only signs of life
small footprints traced
among the trees
Of some unseen force
That pranced lightly
here and there
Before fading in the dusk
Suns light filters through the cracks
Beams of light gleam off
snow covered towers
Sinking lower the colors shift to
oranges and pinks
That warm the cool landscape
As night moves in
Purples and midnight blues
Warping all in pale moons light
Turning forest greens into nights black
Snow glittering silver under the stars
Not so far away an owl cries
and night begins
small footprints traced
among the trees
Of some unseen force
That pranced lightly
here and there
Before fading in the dusk
Suns light filters through the cracks
Beams of light gleam off
snow covered towers
Sinking lower the colors shift to
oranges and pinks
That warm the cool landscape
As night moves in
Purples and midnight blues
Warping all in pale moons light
Turning forest greens into nights black
Snow glittering silver under the stars
Not so far away an owl cries
and night begins
Labels:
Ilana,
Ilana Welch,
moon.light,
night,
poem,
poetry,
snow,
sun,
sunlight,
trees,
winter,
write
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