The Frosted Meadow

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
As winter comes, i cant help but sigh, yeah, we all miss the summer weather, but something about the grey sky, not really being able to distinguish between morning, miday and afternoon (till it gets dark, of course), rather calming.

Submitted: December 06, 2007

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Submitted: December 06, 2007

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Frosted Meadow

 

A windswept gaze looks at the winter sky,

A blue radiance surrounds the clouds of grey,

As the wind sweeps through the frosted grass,

And the cold embrace of this winters day,

 

His glance looks to the creature that crosses the field,

Gathering for the cold,

Protecting its young,

And the flowers dance in the breeze with frosted petals,

And the last leaf of autumn,

Falls, then its done.

 

The cold gaze returns to the light-blue sky,

And the warmth of the sun,

Takes rest and dies.


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