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Snow
2 November, 2004
Author: Webster

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The time has come to change the season,
To heal the Autumn's bright-hued treason.

The sun-soaked earth resists the flakes -
Insistent notes like music makes
The thirsty ground a pillowcase.

Sharp winds elicit needed sighs
As inch by inch the Autumn dies -
Replaced by comfort, mountains high.

The sleeping earth will gather strength
As nature waits for Springtime's pranks.

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Comments on this poem/writing:

Amy (137.73.86.108) -- Tuesday, November 9 2004, 12:37 am

Webster

I like your poem... i tried to read it by myself, but i didnt understand all of it so i told daddy to read it to me. he likes it a lot too.
Love Amy
 
Name:                                           Remember Me

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