Winter settles
in a shroud of
8 inch star dust,
gleaming in the morning sun,
whose weak rays can still
make ten trillion diamond
sparkles that fascinate me.
I recline from my visual
mining of nature's beauty,
with a pad of paper
and the stub of a pencil,
to stencil my thoughts.
January looms ahead,
burdened by February's
woven white that will
still be layered in folds,
through the long March
we all must endure.
But I've got
a crackling fire,
putting a bright glow
on my wood stove,
two Corgi's to
slipper my feet,
and a would pile
full of poetic dreams
to see me through.
Bronze trophy winner
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thanks for sharing
