Driving around today sort of inspired me.........any comments appreciated.
Faint remains of days gone past:
The days when kids were not in school.
Cars won't start and snow is cool.
The fields were white and families stay
(The only time they come and play!).
Sledging, snowball fights galore
But that has gone, it is no more.
There is one sign that stays behind
The one small symbol that does remind
Of the day that everybody smiled
The day when things were not so mild
Chilly faces, red cheeks aglow
It seems that day was long ago
In truth, it's only yesterday
But now its all just rain and grey.
The sign is there for all to see
In every garden, come and see.
A snowman's graveyard, everywhere
There's one here and there's one there
They're everywhere you look today
A sad reminder in disarray
It's back to work and school: outside,
They're ignored, rejected and cast aside.
Tomorrow, we will hardly remember
The day that felt like mid december.
How very apt, that he shouldn't last,
In a culture that food is fast
Where everything is throwaway
We'll sit and think of yesterday.
Poetry by pangasius
Read 709 times
Editors' choice
Written on 2010-01-16 at 20:39
Tags Snow
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Snow
Fields of green go by the glass.Faint remains of days gone past:
The days when kids were not in school.
Cars won't start and snow is cool.
The fields were white and families stay
(The only time they come and play!).
Sledging, snowball fights galore
But that has gone, it is no more.
There is one sign that stays behind
The one small symbol that does remind
Of the day that everybody smiled
The day when things were not so mild
Chilly faces, red cheeks aglow
It seems that day was long ago
In truth, it's only yesterday
But now its all just rain and grey.
The sign is there for all to see
In every garden, come and see.
A snowman's graveyard, everywhere
There's one here and there's one there
They're everywhere you look today
A sad reminder in disarray
It's back to work and school: outside,
They're ignored, rejected and cast aside.
Tomorrow, we will hardly remember
The day that felt like mid december.
How very apt, that he shouldn't last,
In a culture that food is fast
Where everything is throwaway
We'll sit and think of yesterday.
Poetry by pangasius
Read 709 times
Editors' choiceWritten on 2010-01-16 at 20:39
Tags Snow
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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