%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |    A book to house all my Poetic Explorations |
| The sky breathes white, a feathered hush descends, As flakes like feathered angels gently bend. They weave a veil on branches etched and bare, Transforming starkness into beauty rare. Once vibrant greens and golds now sleep below, A frosty blanket muffling all, a silent show. The wind whispers secrets through the crystal spun, A world reborn, pristine, beneath the sun. Footprints, whispers, etched in silent grace, A tapestry of nature's gentle pace. The frozen pond, a mirror to the sky, Reflects the clouds that drift on by. Though winter's grasp may linger, cold and keen, A promise whispers in the evergreen. For life still sleeps, protected, safe and warm, To burst anew when spring unlocks the storm. So let the snow fall, cleanse and purify, A hush of white beneath a leaden sky. For in this quietude, beneath the frozen bough, Everything looks better after the first snow. Line Count: 20 Written for: "The Writer's Cramp"  Prompt: 1. Title of your static item: First Snow 2. LAST line of your story or poem - bolded: Everything looks better after the first snow. 3. Choose ENVIRONMENT as one of your genres. |
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