Friday, January 14, 2022


 Every winter seems like it gets colder the older we get! Today I didn't go out in it, I was cold enough inside. I did, however, decide to write a poem about it, though. But not poem in my usual pattern. I wonder if you can see it. 


By Pat Severin

As winter winds rush by my gate
And snowy drifts accumulate,
I’m longing for its end!
For cold is bold and I feel old!
In younger days these things were told,
A warning from a friend.

She said that there would come a day
That I’d wake up and I would say,
“My bones ache from within!
Why am I stiff, I’m through with this!
It cannot be ol’ winter’s kiss;
I’d call it winter’s sin!

These warnings aren’t preparing you.
For when you’re young, they barely graze
The hallways of your mind.
You never ponder things like that,
Nor will accept that they’re a fact,
So sure you’ll never find…

That you will be as they describe.
For you’ll go on another ride,
No aches and pains for you.
You’ll skirt such things and what they bring
You’re confident ‘twill soon be spring
Those aches will never do.

I now know I deceived myself.
Those foolish thoughts are on the shelf,
Reality’s in place.
It’s very real, the way I feel.
No fooling me my fate is sealed,
For winter shows no grace!         

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