The phones has rang,
for minutes it seems.
With a tussle and bang,
my face light up or beamed.
The news was both expected but surprising.
There wasn't a need for analyzing.
The schools are closed,
for tomorrow's snow.
I'd wouldn't be shocked though,
if the snow was so very low.
But either way,
I'm happy nonetheless.
For I can now lay,
on my bed all day.
Not productive,
I know for sure.
But I can finally blur,
as I fall asleep, drifting into a stir.
To possibly wake up to
a white covered road.
A grassy field I once knew,
will now be covered in snow loads.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of sorts
PoésieThere's different topics of poetry here. Both happy and sad mixed together. #48 sad poems 1/6/2021 #33 poem book 12/19/2020 #62 poetry collection 12/19/2020 #26 thoughts and feelings 11/25/2020 #29 drowning 12/21/2020 #13 joyful 12/21/2020 #7 hope...
