The days and nights in their endless calm,
Nestled into Mother Nature’s palm,
Are sound asleep in the immobile air,
A listless hovering without a care.
 
Peace is too quiet and beauty too soft,
With no stirring or commotion aloft,
December’s air is in its abnormal state,
A respite before the oncoming quake.
 
Arctic uprisings with their vigilant eyes,
Sitting at home in the deep northern skies,
Drifting southward with ice in their veins,
Add winter’s spice to the post autumn rains.
Lo and behold, a new sighting from the storm,
A blanket of snow one early December morn’.

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Robert L. Martin
almost 3 years

Thanx Nelson. An ode to Winter's dawning.

Nelson D Reyes
almost 3 years

Hmm...I am seeing ballet dancers in the snow on your cover picture. Nice!

Nelson D Reyes
almost 3 years

Spirals of snow dusts on the trail! Shades of my times in the snow states of Northeast, the white blanketing of the ground and hunkering down for warmth. Occasional stirrings of the bluejays and cardinals are a delightful sight. And the ever joyful squirrels are ever chasing each other in the snow in our backyard, latitudes south of the Arctic. Like. Thanks Robert.

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