Poems by Patricia Fleming

To awaken to a morning
where a chill pervades the air,
despite the brilliant dazzling sun
that blinds you with its glare.

When peeking through drawn curtains
winter's miracle abounds,
with the pristine arctic powder
stretched like a blanket on the ground!

To bundle up from head to toe,
to crunch through fields with glee.
To feel just like a child again,
inspired and carefree.

We create the perfect snowman
from frigid balls rolled round and round,
and he'll be a courtly-looking fellow
whose grand appearance will astound.

See that lovely couple skating
across the smooth and glassy ice,
or little kiddies gliding down steep hills
until their sleds take flight.

To finally gather round the fire
and bathe within its cozy glow,
laughing, singing and remembering
with the numbest cohorts that we know.

The finale of a winter's day,
drained by the chill of Jackie Frost.
Then cuddling upon a snuggly bed,
all for a minimal cost.

I miss that honest winter,
the whitest, bitter cold of all.
For me that wondrous season
is second only to the Fall.

As much as I love the vibrance of Fall
and the warmth of the summer sun.
I treasure the sting of my rosy cheeks
when our winter adventures are done.

Yes, I miss the winter of days gone by.
It instilled great joy in me
and right now the sight of pure crystalline snow
is the sight that I most need to see!