The silhouettes of leafless trees,
Are etched against the sky,
With branches spread like outstretched arms,
Forever reaching high.
The ebony of bark and bough,
Is bathed in pearly light,
As silver frost like tinseled thread,
Is glistening clear and bright.
It seemed as if a Winter sprite,
All dressed in frozen rime,
Has woven with an icy hand,
An intricate design.
By scattering his fairy dust,
On every naked tree,
Has clothed each branch and bough and twig,
In jeweled embroidery.
'Winter Sprite'
By Kathleen Gillum.
3 comments:
Love the drawing; Calvin and Hobbes are always among my favourites.
The winter poem is strange, as it's already 24ºC here and it's only 10am.
Aye - it's warm here too - or it would be if it wasn't blowing a gale!!!
Guess what Alistair, I heard on the weather forecast for next week that we are going to have temperatures of minus 18... How's about that then?? Why does that strike horror and dread in my ancient bones ???
Well I do remember a number of years ago in Norway when the temp was 18 below and I was out shopping, driving(with studded tyres) and otherwise doing ordinary things... The cold there was never sooo cold as it is here - It's a much drier cold - not damp like ours ! Arrrghhh! OMG ! I'm dreading it...
I do wish it was summer at least then I could walk about with a jacket on and not the full complement of my wardrobe !
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