The first snow of winter falls
Beyond these frosted panes
Feather dust upon the grass
As no season is meant to last
Soon a blanket of winter down
Will spread its wings around
While spring slumbers below
Waiting beneath the fallen snow
Stoic Poetry
Through The Cracked Window (Revisited)
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The first snow of winter falls
Beyond these frosted panes
Feather dust upon the grass
As no season is meant to last
Soon a blanket of winter down
Will spread its wings around
While spring slumbers below
Waiting beneath the fallen snow
Stoic Poetry
In the deep woods
Whispered voices speak
Of past summers
And joyous days
In sun dappled warmth
Chilled days stealing leaves
As Winter calls to fall
Grip the earth, still warm
With roots of ages past
Few will visit these barrens
So we will sleep in silence
Wrapped in snowy days
The quiet of winter comes
Now rest on hidden trails
Awaiting spring and the coming sun
Stoic Poetry
Natures toil in thunder rolls
across laden skies of somber dawn
teardrop rain streaked window panes
on this dreary winters morn
Eyes closed and nowhere to be
sounds fall as words upon the page
the eye of the storm on this winters morn
all given to natures soft rage
Stoic Poetry
Natures toil in thunder rolls
across laden skies of somber dawn
teardrop rain streaked window panes
on this dreary winters morn.
Eyes closed and nowhere to be
sounds fall as words upon the page
an eye of the storm on this winters morn
all given to natures soft rage.
Stoic Poetry
Dark moods in which I brood
ride the leaves of poetry books
marking the seasons of my life
Springs words, still fresh to the world
capture wondrous blooms awakening
boundless soul with wings unfurled
Summers fire, filled with hearts desire
loves caress given freely without cost
travel from where I am to were you are
Autumn’s palette, painting visions of Monet
soft natures breath whispers life to me
by quiet brooks with pen in hand
Winter’s crystals fall, and through it all
poems written on leaves pressed lovingly
between the pages of my life
Stoic