First Snow

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

Whispers

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

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Early Morning

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

Winter Morn

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

Writing Monet

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