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The Legacy of Androva Series

Snowy Poems ❆

When the landscape is decorated in soft layers of ice crystals, it’s like a touch of natural magic. Everything looks different, and it feels as if anything is possible. Today's blog post comes from a very snowy South England, where the wintry weather in the woods reminds me of one of my favourite poems by Robert Frost. 

Here are four poems, including Robert Frost’s masterpiece, that capture the mystery and wonder a little snow can bring. The photos were all taken this morning, and as you can see, my cat was happy to come exploring too! Thank you very much for visiting my blog today, and I hope you enjoy the poetry πŸ’•.

Writing update: Lost in Magic is going well. Kellan is getting himself into a whole lot of trouble though!

 

It sifts from leaden sieves,

It powders all the wood,

It fills with alabaster wool

The wrinkles of the road.

It makes an even face

Of mountain and of plain, —

Unbroken forehead from the east

Unto the east again.

It reaches to the fence,

It wraps it, rail by rail,

Till it is lost in fleeces;

It flings a crystal veil

― Emily Dickinson

 

Snowflakes spill from heaven’s hand

Lovely and chaste like smooth white sand.

A veil of wonder laced in light

Falling Gently on a winter’s night.

Graceful beauty raining down

Giving magic to the lifeless ground.

Each snowflake like a falling star

Smiling beauty that’s spun afar.

Till earth is dressed in a robe of white

Unspoken poem the hush of night

― Linda A. Copp

 

Winter is the king of showmen,

Turning tree stumps into snow men,

And houses into birthday cakes,

And spreading sugar over lakes.

 

Smooth and clean and frosty white,

The world looks good enough to bite.

That’s the season to be young

Catching snowflakes on your tongue.

― Ogden Nash

 

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

 

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

 

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound’s the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

― Robert Frost


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