Snow covers graves and other things,
snow covers leaves and even wings.
The winter pansy and the rose
resist their night of dark repose
and in the morning shake red heads
between the whitely powdered beds.
Pink cheeks, bright eyes of cobalt blue
conspire galacticly to show
though while snow covers graves and wings
the flower that is heaven sings.
Ronald Westbrook (my family poet)
Risky Regencies Tagged Christmas, poetry 1 Reply
wow! how lovely!