Thrill Factor

The death of fall is feeling grand,
Bold winter comes with cold command;
He grips with ice and feathered snow—
He’s soft and hard where e’er you go.
His blast of love is catching strong;
We answer him with merry song.
The lively time of lengthened nights
Gives beauty-bite to all our lights.
The sidewalk’s slick, so step with care,
Or laughing, leap, if you would dare!
The vibrant spirit’s valiant still
That masters every winter chill.
The love of coat and gloves and muff
Is warmer now in this cold stuff.
Old fall is dead, young winds whip whole,
And factor thrill gives life to soul!

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s