- Falling Snow –
John Herlihy
There is something about falling snow,
Falling ever so silent with its spooky glow.
One strains to hear it emitting some sound,
You wait but there is only silence all around.
Who could write such an encrypted message,
Some ancient, mysterious rune in its last vestige.
Who knows what happens as it falls from the sky,
Descending in vaporous clouds down from on high.
Ah, but the magnificent snow, the peaceful snow,
Where does it ever come from, where does it go?
Snow fills us as distant foghorns heard as a child;
Ghost sounds lead into our hearts out of nature wild.
Oh yes, I forgot to mention, the wind but windless,
As the snow keeps falling all around, as if endless.
Such a magical world to fill in the darkness of night;
Such a wonder of white in the pure lightness of light.
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(c) John Herlihy 25 January 2019
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Come John, let us sit at ease.
And talk as old friends do.
You talk of anything you please,
But I will talk of you.
Your words seem strange,
In sere desert lands,
Where sands in dunes arrange
Themselves in burnished strands.
Perhaps they may arise
From half-remembered scenes
Of youthful, darkened winter skies
Or ill-digested beans.
Regardless, I sit puzzled here,
While pulling at my beard,
And take another draught of beer,
My illusions all quite speared...
For sand and snow are rarely seen
Together in my knowledge,
As I picture your desert scene
In the depths of my mental enallage.
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[Lovely subject (snow).]