Winter Song

by Abbie Johnson Taylor

©2001

 

 

I’m frightened of slipping on ice,

falling and breaking my ribs.

The days are as quiet as mice.

“More nice days,” the weatherman fibs.

Conditions are ever so cold.

The forecast is ever so nasty.

Still, I must be so bold

when I’d rather enjoy a hot pasty.

I’m wishing the weather were fine.

It’s too frigid now for ice cream.

If only I’d see the sun shine.

Is it really a crime to dream?

I wish we could have warmer days,

get rid of this wintery haze.

 

Back Story

 

I wrote this poem over twenty years ago. At the time, I’d just joined a local writers’ group. A guest poet taught us to write a form of sonnet that has fourteen lines with every other line rhyming and the last two lines rhyming together.

It was mid-winter, and as I usually do this time of year, I longed for the snow and ice to go away and the days to get warmer. As you no doubt have realized, the above poem reflects this. It was published in the winter quarterly issue of The Avocet. You can click the link below to hear me read it.

 

Winter Song

 

Abbie wears a blue and white V-neck top with different shades of blue from sky to navy that swirl together with the white. She has short, brown hair and rosy cheeks and smiles at the camera against a black background.

Photo Courtesy of Tess Anderson Photography

Photo Resize and Description by

Two Pentacles Publishing.

 

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