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It was dark and blustery at 7:30 when Matt's bus came,
then it seemed as if suddenly the sun realized she's late...
The sun climbed
Out of bed late today
Then, tripped on a tent
That tore and spilled tears
To a floor worn by years
Of her temperament
She stubbed her toe
On an ocean of snow
It didn’t melt, but fell
Not in soft-tumbled froth
But like steel-threaded cloth
To ice-swathed field and dell
The sun slept in
She didn’t grin
In her usual, ticklish way
Who knew that gold
Could be so cold
On a sun-slept-in kind of day?
Now she scales time's frail ladder
To her post of duty
...a throne in the foothills of heaven
While we lament,
Her Temperament
-al ways that need shovellin'
© Janet Martin
Maybe she'll warm up after a few cups of coffee. (the sun, that is;)
Wow! Where do you live?! :O Haha..
ReplyDeleteI love how happy your poems always are...i could never write happy things..
Thanks for sharing :)
thank-you. I live in rural southern Ontario. (farming countryside). Ontario also has lots of big-city industry and forestland.
DeleteYou make me happy when I know my poem made you happy. It is really cold here right now, but I love all the seasons so I don't mind.