Winter Sonnet

I was on a coach the other day and was observing the snow when out of the window, this sonnet happened...

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1. Winter Sonnet

Row upon row of twisted child stood atop ashen field,

Whitened ground frozen- the canvas of broken life;

Taller twisted trees keeping order over branches forced to yield

Power or beauty to passers-by whose distraction is rife;

Unnoticing the school ground with painted floors of frost,

Where sky and ground make love on the endless silver horizon;

Innocence runs wild and industry kneels to the journey lost

To ice and wind- too cold for you or I to feast our eyes on

Are the gusts shifting between the rows of tormented roots,

So instead we blink and turn back to fires, save the frozen log;

Welcome guests who by our doors bang blistered boots

Leaving snow on doormats and our hallways they do clog,

And dampen- the familiar smell of outdoors to me was never sold,

And neither were uninvited guests stepping out of the cold.

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