Blizzard Coming Poem by L MILTON HANKINS

Dark clouds portended the blizzard coming
Out of the west, ‘tis the perfect time of the year
Crops are harvested, the northern chill is numbing.

Whistling sounds of the sharp winds we hear
Surrounding our house with an eerie, ungodly siren
Out of the west, ‘tis the perfect time of the year

Inside, the family is seemingly snug and serene
Lest the snow piles up high and banks against the door
Surrounding our house with an eerie, ungodly siren

We have experienced this feeling many times before
When our hearts beat rapidly while our minds reconsidered
Lest the snow piles up high and banks against the door

Sheltered against the anticipated cold so bitter
Creatures awaiting the remembered Arctic blast
When our hearts beat rapidly while our minds reconsidered

Then, suddenly, the latch on the door pulls fast
Dark clouds portended the blizzard coming
When our hearts beat rapidly while our minds reconsidered
Crops are harvested, the northern chill is numbing.