Winter is the Color White





Oh where has that Summer life gone?

Twisted around the Autumn months done.

Leaves fall, leaves fell. Birds call, then stop.

Winter awaits. Wind and snowflakes shake. "Come!"


"Come! And see the Winter beauty.

Come, and see the white-capped peaks."

The cocoa's warming, the storm outside-swarming.

The greatest of all seasons is breached.


Oh, the life that is found in the freeze!

In the jackets, the mittens, the blankets, the jeans.

People bundled everywhere, hair blowing in the frosty air.

Smiles and handshakes fill the breeze.


Sure there's no sun, no heat, no swimming, no sweat.

Of beachcombing and surfing, not even a bit.

But there's fires and stoves, and little warm groves

Of children forming snowballs in their hands dripping wet.


I smell the pines, the oak, the bark.

I see the colors, each making their mark

On the patterns of life, the struggles and strife,

That just need a little, a pure, teeny, spark.


Winter's my spark, and white is my muse.

They both connect, combine, and, oh my, they confuse

The degradations I feel, the downs that appeal, 

To my life without Summer's red hues.


But the color white must now be the best.

Winter, by extrapolation, aces the test.

I know that Summer--it's distance a bummer--

Will come after this calming redress.




Hope you guys enjoy!

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