Treasure Island

Ethelwyn Wetherald

(26 April 1857 - 9 March 1940 / Rockwood, Ontario)

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The Snow Storm


The Great soft downy snow storm like a cloak
Descends to wrap the lean world head to feet;
It gives the dead another winding sheet,
It buries all the roofs until the smoke
Seems like a soul that from its clay has broke.
It broods moon-like upon the Autumn wheat,
And visits all the trees in their retreat
To hood and mantle that poor shivering folk.
With wintry bloom it fills the harshest grooves
In jagged pine stump fences. Every sound
It hushes to the footstep of a nun.
Sweet Charity! that brightens where it moves
Inducing darkest bits of churlish ground
To give a radiant answer to the sun.

Submitted: Thursday, September 16, 2010

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  • Terry Craddock (8/22/2014 7:47:00 PM)

    A beautifully written poem, I loved these lines the most for their imaginative freshness


    It gives the dead another winding sheet,
    It buries all the roofs until the smoke
    Seems like a soul that from its clay has broke.

    Even the first line seems to invite the reader in warm tucked up in bed, with the line 'The Great soft downy snow storm like a cloak' or perhaps, it is the eternal invitation to go out and explore the new winter white changes coming in an Autumn storm? (Report) Reply

  • Lorraine Margueritte Gasrel Black (8/22/2014 9:23:00 AM)

    the snow always muffles the sounds of Winter and is beautiful to watch as lacy snowflakes dance on the wind..how beautiful this poem is as in your words you capture the essence and spirit of the season.. (Report) Reply

  • Karen Sinclair (8/22/2012 4:00:00 AM)

    beautifully descriptive and full of atmosphere, if a little predictable by todays standards but i do agree with veeraiyah the last line just lifts the whole piece (Report) Reply

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