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Open Poetry #11
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Wilfred Yeats
Member Elite
since 2000-08-04
Posts 2704
Wilmington, Delaware

0 posted 2000-11-21 05:00 PM



News on the radio and TV
Tells me Buffalo is blanketed
Two feet of snow fell yesterday
While I feel for the kids
Whose school busses were stranded
My childhood memories returned
I remember trudging four blocks
Through such snows to school
I remember the shoveled snow piled
In mountains six feet high
On either side of driveways
Where we made igloos
Where we played
‘King of the Hill’

I remember playing
‘Fox and Chickens’
In the big yard on the corner
(Tag on snow tramped pathways)
Nostalgia swept over me.

There’s a beauty in such snows
Trees decorated
Down to the smallest branch
Every unsightly urban element
Covered in pristine white
A quiet seldom heard
On usually bustling streets
Until finally echelons of plows
Begin their traverse
Building snow-banks
Like brown sugar piles
On Cream of Wheat

It is cold here
It is clear here
The wind is icy
And I’m glad we’re snow free
Yet I still wish I could
Be back in my boyhood home
Secure behind the window
Drinking hot chocolate
Looking out
At God’s wintry decorations




There are places inside our souls -
that have never been touched.
There are places inside our hearts -
that need to be loved this much.
~Janet Mar

© Copyright 2000 Wilfred Yeats - All Rights Reserved
Victoria
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Ascendant
since 2000-08-12
Posts 5869

1 posted 2000-11-21 05:04 PM


childhood memories are wonderful..to only be a child again...enjoyed bill...happy thanksgiving with your family..

          ~Victoria~


A poem is never finished, only abandoned.
- Paul Valery (1871-1945)


ethome
Member Patricius
since 2000-05-14
Posts 11858
New Brunswick Canada
2 posted 2000-11-21 05:47 PM


I know what you mean Wilfred I remember those snow castles and the tunnels we made through them....it was a great time for kids...we used to play road hockey and use two hunks of ice snow for the net posts and run back and forth for hours pretending we were hockey stars...everybody had a nickname....but on a clear winter starlit night when things quieted down it seemed like you could hear for miles...a distant dog barking sounded like it was on the other side of the earth.
I never played fox and chickens but you brought the waves of nostalgia over me with your words.... the 2nd to last verse you've written here is a wonderful descrition of winter right down to the sounds of the plows and the banks they create.....good work!!!!

Lillian Starling
New Member
since 2000-11-21
Posts 8

3 posted 2000-11-21 05:54 PM


How beautiful. Although I grew up in a very different area (on the beaches of Corpus Christie), this poem took me back to the  days of my childhood. It captures the feelings of "looking back." I really enjoyed this piece

Lillian

Wilfred Yeats
Member Elite
since 2000-08-04
Posts 2704
Wilmington, Delaware
4 posted 2000-11-21 07:38 PM


Victoria - ethome - Lillian -

Here I am writing about snow banks to two texans - woo hoo - anyhow - sounds like ethome can identify - -I'm glad you all enjoyed - thank you

Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
5 posted 2000-11-21 08:13 PM


Bill--What wonderful imagery...makes me wish to live in snow for just a little while...I never lived in snow, but it was always in the mountains behind our house in winter...my folks would take my brother and I up there...for snowball fights..6 pair of socks and gollashes...and the snow went right over the top and into the boot...fun memories...and your's were too.
Paula Finn
Member Ascendant
since 2000-06-17
Posts 5546
missouri
6 posted 2000-11-22 01:13 AM


I remember...the splat of a well thrown snowball...the taste of snow ice cream...the feel of that first snowflake kissing my cheeks...I remember
Wilfred Yeats
Member Elite
since 2000-08-04
Posts 2704
Wilmington, Delaware
7 posted 2000-11-22 08:59 PM


Paula -

Lots of fun snow things to remember  Thanks

Lone Wolf
Member Ascendant
since 2000-03-16
Posts 5842
Lansing, MI USA
8 posted 2000-11-22 10:30 PM


Wilfred,

Wonderful memories you have shared here.  Thank you.  

LW


Poetry should surprise by fine excess...it should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts and appear almost a remembrance. -J.Keats

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