Shrove Tuesday Poem by Francie Lynch
Shrove Tuesday
Winter amassed his victories
With cold clear spears,
Lined along eaves;
Cannon clouds hurling
Swirling whiteouts,
Blades of wind rifling
Body armor.
But battles aren't wars.
Spring's cavalry
Comes charging.
We're flipping suns,
Pouring golden sweet rays,
And fattening-up
For the final onslaught
Of a battle weary warrior.
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: winter,love,spring,easter
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4/19/2024 11:16:55 PM # 1.0.0.1119
