She strides down the cobbled lane,
Her feet barely making a sound
Only leaving footprints in the snow as a marking of her passage.
There is no one outside,
To cheer as she goes past,
They are holed up in their houses
Fireplaces burning wood, hot chocolate burning tongues
She is quiet, and it often feels like she is never going to leave
Everyday piling on layer after layer
Straining your eyes in the dark to see the way home.
No one's favourite season is Winter
Unless you were born then,
Blinded by the bright lights of Christmas
Or you are trying to make it into a metaphor for how you are feeling inside.
But Winter is honest,
She doesn't lie to you
Tell you it will be a wonderful day
But when you come back from the glorious sunshine
Burnt all over,
The pain will last for weeks.
She is patient,
Like school children scouring the sky for any sign of snow
Praying for a day off.
She is calm,
Huddled up with a friend on a frosty bench
You can really let things go
Even though you do freeze your bum off a bit.
She is both the laughter and giggles of playing in the snow,
And the grumbles and groans when you realise work is still open in the morning.
And she is beautiful,
You just have to put on enough layers
To go watch as she strides past.
Notes:
hey, for some reason when im way ahead i get out of practise, here is my 3rd last poem of the year. Got two more to go, last one pretty special.
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52 weeks of positivity (kinda)
PoetryCompleted 4th jan 2020 My attempt at this challange, My poems may not always be "positive" but I'm trying to do the 52 weeks of positivity through being positive about my work. It's so much easier to be humble and put yourself down. Then to say "oi...
