Snow!
Snow!
Snow!
Sing the little peeps;
Snow!
Snow!
Snow!
Groan their parents;
Snow! Oh no!
Gasp the elders in dismay;
Funny how one thing,
So beautiful as it falls
From a gray, leaden sky,
Can affect each of us
In different ways:
Youngsters see the adventure
And freedom from their studies
That each flake represents,
While their parents,
Anticipating a day cooped up
And trapped,
Surrounded by
Youthful hyperactivity, see
Exactly the opposite in
The same;
Then there are the elderly
With their fears of falling
And of being helplessly
Snowed in,
Who have a more significant dread
Of what a snowfall can mean;
Individual and All look out
And see divergent things
In the serene falling
Of fluffy white.
So when I hear
The many voices
Raised in
Strong and emotional ways
For that marvel of nature,
I am bemused how
One thing can
Have such a profoundly varied effect
On many.
This is very real to me. I love the snow. I was born in northern Alberta and remember clearly the winters and the magic of snow. My eldest daughter is the same. She loves snow as well... ...and the magic of winter. Your poem elicited much. Thank you. Love and best wishes to you,
I think a new snowfall, viewed from a warm room with a large window on a rural scene has a kind of Currier and Ives impression on all ages. But you have depicted reality so well in this poem.
Oh how I remember how snow affected us kids, yes, out of school, but endless sledding, skating under the stars in a snowfall, and whatnot. How glorious.
A book of nature inspired poems and essays, written from the heart and soul of a life-long nature, animal, and wilderness lover, and dedicated to today’s children - Earth's only hope for a better tomorrow.
This book won 'The Poetry Category'
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Regis. 🍁🌺
Ron