|
![]() |
Winter DaySoftly falls the snow in silent rapture, the wind whispers around the house. Drifts of snow over fields and pasture, Silently moving around as a mouse. Soon the the children will be rising, and their warm beds they will leave. Just to check out through the window, And all the snow they will see. The glistening in their smiling faces, as they think of snow games to play. "Hurry Mom, we've got to get ready, for there is no school today." Judy Lindsey January 29, 2009 Vote for this poem
|
|
| |