Winter Sonnet

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


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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