Igloo

Some winters have the harshness of flint-
Thudding in a mute greyness of bone chilling light.
Maudlin us to attempt to see some glow shining somewhere.
Not an entire despair but near enough to disappoint.

Days do not flow they only stack one frozen on the other.
We sit on verges of despondancy dreaming of spring
When the birds singing at least softens air.

Not all winters though...

Somehow I have found summer in my heart and
I want to dance in snow with my love aglow
And sleep with him in his igloo as we declare
The winter is soft to us.



















Poetry by jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 494 times
star mini Editors' choice
Written on 2010-11-09 at 00:43

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Esti D-G The PoetBay support member heart!
Loved this!Beautifully written without cliches .
luv esti x
2010-11-20


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Nicely done, Linda. The more times I read it, the better I like it.
2010-11-13


John Ashleigh
I applaud you.

Beautiful.
2010-11-11


Sid Gardner
You've been nobbled by the Inuit...innit ..
Take care,
Sid.
2010-11-09


NicholasG
Snow, snow, snow the coat
Gently through the dream....
Drifting, drifting, drifting, drifting
Life is but ice cream....
2010-11-09


Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
This text has been chosen to be featured on the front page of PoetBay. Thank you for posting it on our poetry web site.
2010-11-09



Snow angels and ice skates, winter can indeed sparkle. Add love and you've got a picnic.

Loved it.
jim
2010-11-09


shells
Love the winter harshness of this and that first line of your second stanza and then the suprise turn to happiness, 'tis a good one this.
2010-11-09