‘The Solstice dance’

The shortest day came and went;
another instance of cloudy gloom. 
No indication the sun will return.
This cozy bed could be my tomb.

With a fury the cold wind blows.
My frail walls and timbers creak. 
The age of winter is in full bloom.
Out my icy windowpane I peek.

Long shadows cover the ground;
refusing to give daylight a chance.
Seasons fight their tug-of-war;
all just part of the ‘Solstice dance’.

Just when things are most dire; 
the Ice King howls his final rage.
Firewood stacked upon the porch;
as weather moves to its new stage.


About Bo Bandy

Just a creative soul trapped in a world of cookie-cutter pragmatism...
This entry was posted in Children's Stories, Essays & Rants, Humor, Poetry, Recollections, True Stories, True Stories, Essays & Rants, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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