My eye leaps
To the window,
Snow falls outside,
On the glass,
Encased in ice,
Are little frost drawings,
From goblins,
Stealing gold,
To horses, leaping through the cold,
Fantasy lands,
Creatures unknown,
It's a winter wonderland,
Made of snow,
The things we see,
Are not to be told,
Because like silence,
Saying their name,
Breaks it.
Etched in the most delicate font,
Fairies have to had made them,
Small hands, small noses,
Touching and breathing,
The window clouding up,
But it stays outside,
Slowly,
Getting snowed,
Over.
YOU ARE READING
Wonderland (a winter poetry collection)
PoetryA poetry collection combining the solitude and grief of winter along with the comforting and emotional half.
