Where I am,
Snow and sun battle,
A gray war in the sky and lands.

There are three false springs,
Before winter is truly slain.
Hope rises from the rocky Earth,
Only to be drowned in the icy rain.
Once again claiming the soul of young spring,
So the elder winter may rise again.

Spring is coming,
I can smell it in the air.
The warm kiss of sunny days,
The sent of the Earth waking again.
Winter snows fall from their glinting glory,
Shrinking as they drown in the muds.
The puddles claim the sidewalk stones,
Now in their reflection, I know my face again.
My soul aches as the breezes pass by me,
Carrying the sweet scents of flower blooms.
If only I could grow wings,
I would follow them to their shining prize.
Spring, is coming.

over snow fields
chimney smoke versus clouds
                         racing shadows

joy, giggles and laughs as they trudge through the snow. snowballs gliding through the air, sleds speeding down. it's magical, the way the snowflakes fall gracefully from the sky...

but, when the sun comes out, the fun begins to die. the once white covered grass starts to fade, the happiness of winter melts away.

what could be harder
getting up before the dawn
beating a lone path

climbing into your cold cab

what could be cooler
sitting high above the snow
clearing a shared path

See you in the snow,
No daze or fog could distract,
My eyes from my love.

let's cover heads with winter hats
and criss cross fields with winter tracks

be quick to  claim  this winter scape
the early bird new tracks will make

long before the last chimney smoke
The wind will craft a winter coat.

across this land a blanket bright.
concealing blemishes winter white.

as the sun appears to try its hand
at waking up this freezing land

the bitter chill will win this fight  
between bright  blue sky and coming night.

My dreams of a warm snow day were thwarted by nature's other plans. On my way to work, my car slid down the same Wayne mountain which had imbued me with dreams of peace for today. The unkempt roads, covered in the slush of snow crushed by other poor souls trudging their way to work.  Jobs who could care less about employees safety paved the way for my mood to reach the tipping point it's at. 2 minutes late to punch and my boss says it's my fault for not planning properly. Little did she know I had planned on them caring about me more than they apparently do.

                                                          ---
                                           On my way to work
                                      Ice plots my likely demise
                                           God plots otherwise
                                                          ---

“Red skies in the morning, sailors heed warning”
Beautiful orange sunrise, from the top of this wayne mountain
Dress the new york city skyline in marmalade
Bring us the promise of a turbulent winters storm tonight
Save me from tomorrows trials and tribulations
Snow me in, cover me up
and I’ll find warmth in your frozen promise
            

                                                  ­     ---
                                      Marmalade dressed sky
                                Peaceful mountain top sunrise
                                            Chaos tomorrow
                                                       ---