Wintertime

A poem on winter

By Lane BurnsPublished 2 years ago • 1 min read

Winter is the time of year,

Where we must reflect my dear.

On how our lives have been growing,

And were the path is no longer sowing.

It is a time of year that I do love,

For I can chose to become like a new born dove.

Where past sorrows,

Will not fill my tomorrows.

Instead I bring forth hope and joy,

So that spring will not end like Troy.

And we will see great summer days,

And forge our path out in new ways.

And when the year strikes towards the fall,

We will be able to harvest it all.

Of chow the year was new and bold,

Before it too must come to fold.

As winter comes once more my dear,

To be a special time of the year.

I am a Poet and an inspiring short story, one day novel writer.

I like to write in free verse mostly, but am heavily inspired by Emily Dickenson, and tend to create my own rules and ideas as well.

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