Post by David Nelson Bradsher on Jan 31, 2010 11:16:31 GMT -5
Frosted
The Winter's icy fingernails
Tap on the rooftop, rhythmically
Alerting those who wish to see
The world grow lovely as it pales.
The snow stopped early, bringing sleet,
Which made me think of Robert Frost
Instead of Jack, whose name gets tossed
Around when man admits defeat,
And let’s the winter have its way.
I guess the Frost's have joined together
When we awake to frozen weather
And see that Winter’s on display.
When Robert wrote of ice and fire,
And which would come to end it all,
I think he hoped for ice to fall
Until it piled up high and higher,
Enough to bury everything
Under a blanket like a shroud,
Where the destruction God allowed
Would only last until the Spring
When all that could would be returned
To life, and not the total loss
of ash and dust, the pillared dross
The Earth would be if it had burned.
The Winter's icy fingernails
Tap on the rooftop, rhythmically
Alerting those who wish to see
The world grow lovely as it pales.
The snow stopped early, bringing sleet,
Which made me think of Robert Frost
Instead of Jack, whose name gets tossed
Around when man admits defeat,
And let’s the winter have its way.
I guess the Frost's have joined together
When we awake to frozen weather
And see that Winter’s on display.
When Robert wrote of ice and fire,
And which would come to end it all,
I think he hoped for ice to fall
Until it piled up high and higher,
Enough to bury everything
Under a blanket like a shroud,
Where the destruction God allowed
Would only last until the Spring
When all that could would be returned
To life, and not the total loss
of ash and dust, the pillared dross
The Earth would be if it had burned.
