Winter
is a bleak and wind ripped sea front
one desperate bandit arcade
bleeping flashing
to the empty promenade
high tides crashing
stones smashing
no deckchairs
no donkeys
Winter
is a sparkling false illusion
alight with nature's bling
Wrapped in furs
bearing hot chocolate
mulled wine
stoked fires
love your neighbour
peace
on earth
Winter
is black ice on a country lane
Winter
is when you left me
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excerpt from Epic Nursery Rhyme for Strange Children by
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading a chapter in the story
Palindromes. This chapter
was posted on June 26, 2008 by
Twizzle.
This is a collaborative story.
This story is filed under:
Poetry
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