A City's Wintery Spells Of Coldest Icey Outer Shells. Poem by Michael Gale

A city's besied streets run averse and too unseen...
Neatness in alleys run way too much abreast.

Neatness lacking at messy is best...
In times of happy rest all thy test.

Long rows of unevened piles of trash...
Winter's long over due now coldest did crash.

Winds own path's unobserved repeels to all warmth not to last...
Winding sidewalks buried deep in snow.

Icey wind currents froze out and fast...
Glassy looking pavements of unhonored of visit.

Ice age looks...
Frosted mountained seemed.

Is it coldest? Is it as is it as it should seem serene and deemed? ...
Are coldest ages listed on as in books?

Are there many more pages? ...
Are there over vain looks?

Tree's leaves fallen down by winter's winds blown fresh into town...
Icey slippery side walks slick as a pane of glass.

Busted bones in legs and arms...
Brings all to all someone befalls harm and suddenly to others befittingly harms.

Snow flakes melt onto warm moistured tongue...
Fallen afresh let loose from skies not attatched or hung.

No two flakes are as alike as identical twins...
Nature's own weathered looks succomb to all elder beings.

Only youthful students of unfailing learning come out on top as always wins...
No more losing and no more sins.

All of nature is worthy of seeing and freeing....
Be forwarned of all it's unseemly beauty seeing.

All is worth of unselfish being.