The times of cold approach,
And the dark with it,
Twin seasons of Fall and Jack Frost,
Times of boreal frost biting at your fingers,
Seasons of shivers,
Presents of pumpkins and bonfires,
But not before the autumnal death of the year,

Firstly come the hues of orange and brown,
Emeralds decaying from the boughs,
Laying a carpet of beguiling entropy,
A funeral for this turn of the sun,
With scents of ginger and freshness,

Then follows the true storm of cold,
Walls of snow from the sky,
Rain haunting the alleys like spectres,
Jack Frost cackles in blizzards,
Leaving little crystalline stars about as presents,

These times bring cold and discomfort,
It’s undeniably true,
But it also brings gatherings around fireplaces,
Blankets and cuddles and cinnamon,
Hope for a new year,

If the cold didn’t bear down,
We wouldn’t know the warm.

Comments
  1. Very lovely. How profound your words, “A funeral for this turn of the sun,” wow! Beautiful poetry. Thank you.πŸ˜ŠπŸ™πŸ‚πŸ₯œπŸΏ

  2. Shruba says:

    Yee. Blankets and cuddles, also steaming hot chocolate or coffee and frosted windows to doodle on. πŸ’œβ˜Ί

  3. Wooow! Dude! I can literally post the pic I told you about and put your poem under it! XD I think I’ll do it! You okay with it? πŸ˜€

  4. Carol anne says:

    Loved this! You put it so well, it is definitely getting colder and winter is on its way 😁🌹

  5. locikate says:

    In the heat of summer, we long for winter; in winter’s heart, we long for summer. Yes, we can’t appreciate one without the other. Your words brought winter to life, made me long for its cold embraceβ€”until it’s actually here, then I’ll want summer. We humans are never content with what we have. 😊

  6. […] this is the collab I was talking about in my last post! Jacko wrote this poem (I only changed the title) just about the time when I took this and the picture I […]

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