Sunday, January 15, 2012


Editor's note: "Some folks dread to see winter arrive; others hate to see it go," Dad wrote as the introduction to this poem. "I guess it depends on your appetite for weather."

The northern wind is howling
Like a banshee in the night,
Overcoating lawn and garden
With a coverlet of white.

Wires along the highway,
Whining in the cruel cold,
Cry that winter's got us
In its bitter strangle hold.

The hoary frost has settled
O'er the garden corner post;
In the pale moonlight it shimmers
Like an eerie sheeted ghost.

I appreciate the beauty
Of the snowy winter scene;
With the world in fleecy garments,
It appears to white and clean.

But let me clear the record,
So as not to be amiss--
It doesn't take me long to get
My belly full of this!

No comments:

Post a Comment