The First Snowfall
The snow came laughing, dancing down
down on the sleeping little town.
No one watched it piling high,
nor heard the snowbird shiver, and sigh.
The wind was whispering through the trees
of things that were, or were to be.
The moon was glowing softly above
reflecting the peace of God's great love.
Beautiful. I don't know which I like more the poem or the painting. I can feel and hear the poem; the town looks like one I would like to visit.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for your kind words. I'm sorry I didn't reply earlier. I simply didn't see your comment. My eyes aren't what they used to be.
ReplyDeleteMy interest in poetry began as a young girl. My grandmother had inherited several books of poetry from her mother. Some poems were in magazine form nestled in beautiful photographs and printed paintings. I read every book grandmother had and it inspired me to express my own feelings in poetry form.
And yes, I'd love to spend time in that little town too.