Winters Beauty Poem by Andrew Daglish

Like steam locomotives, it's a tangible breath,
Belching plumes, akin to the heaviest of chain smokers.
Each bud & blade consumed by hungry jack himself
Kissed completely with an ice cold dust

White wash splattered with contempt,
Smother motionless cars that slept sound by night.
Into window corners frost creeps silent,
Embedded with a Dickensian slant.

A milky sun without power to burn,
Relegates itself to a mere shadow caster
And a Scooby-doo mist engulfs the long par three
From weather beaten green too divot strewn tee

This picture painted drowns many a heart in fear
But for myself, it's a pinnacle to round off the year
Crisp chilled air heralds the onset of snow
It’s a perfect topping for a beautiful winter