Sandra Dodd

Rookie (April 17,1967 / Los Angeles, CA)

Winter Born And Live - Poem by Sandra Dodd

Some people enter the world
to indigo skies,
the sun beams
on their blessed souls
season after season.
Never a day of
storms or showers form,
in their world
there are no winters.
Their grin comes
without expense,
their soul
without pause flourishes.
Groundhog never appears
to see his shadow,
for spring is
constantly assured.
Nothing did they do
to improve or disparage
their springtime birth.
Their blessed eternal Eastertide
is a purely bestowed.
Any other season
but the consecrated
spring they do not know.

Others enter the world
from inception
blizzards never cease
Hardly a day of a sunny beam
before began sqa ually rage spurned
upon their countenance.
One storm flows
in timely order
after the other,
giving them forever winter,
hail and snow and gales.
Zeus did not curse them
for a deed or word,
but in good fortune
they are not superb.
Though if to see their spirits
you would not presume,
that spring does not show its face
oft to the winter born.
They have a frosty smile still,
upon the winter they do not grieve.

They beam with joy peculiarly
like a summer baby born,
as if they are unawares to them
warmer days are forlorn.
Spring never begins for winters child,
though you can feel they
have a secret of enduring.
Never stopping to feel the bitter bite of frost,
feel adrift and ever lost,
in their winter tide.
Winter birth seeking a celebration
day to day from in the storm,
they rejoice to see the beauty
in winter solstice birth.
Their peacefulness heartily
defies the drifts of whiteness
with great acts of love.
They rise above their glaciated valleys
with compassionate repasts to share.
Are they cursed by Narnias queen
to live evermore in cheerless winter?
She is not their ruler for they know
a joy where winter is never keen,
they live aglow in a warmth
to a spring born is never seen.

I am of the winterbourne,
living constantly from storm to storm.
In the quiet before each whitewashed tempest,
I gather to see my days gone by.
I see unclouded firmament, sunny skies,
rainbow with a promise of better days,
a lingering unmelted powder,
grayness gone adrift.
Constant celebration of winter solstice
has me thrive,
with the storms passing I feel alive.
I have felt the sunbeams brightness
through the wintry sky.
My spirit feels springs lightness
in my winter life.



Some people enter the world
to indigo skies,
the sun beams
on their blessed souls
season after season.
Never a day of
storms or showers form,
in their world
there are no winters.
Their grin comes
without expense,
their soul
without pause flourishes.
Groundhog never appears
to see his shadow,
for spring is
constantly assured.
Nothing did they do
to improve or disparage
their springtime birth.
Their blessed eternal Eastertide
is a purely bestowed.
Any other season
but the consecrated
spring they do not know.

Others enter the world
from inception
blizzards never cease
Hardly a day of a sunny beam
before began sqa ually rage spurned
upon their countenance.
One storm flows
in timely order
after the other,
giving them forever winter,
hail and snow and gales.
Zeus did not curse them
for a deed or word,
but in good fortune
they are not superb.
Though if to see their spirits
you would not presume,
that spring does not show its face
oft to the winter born.
They have a frosty smile still,
upon the winter they do not grieve.

They beam with joy peculiarly
like a summer baby born,
as if they are unawares to them
warmer days are forlorn.
Spring never begins for winters child,
though you can feel they
have a secret of enduring.
Never stopping to feel the bitter bite of frost,
feel adrift and ever lost,
in their winter tide.
Winter birth seeking a celebration
day to day from in the storm,
they rejoice to see the beauty
in winter solstice birth.
Their peacefulness heartily
defies the drifts of whiteness
with great acts of love.
They rise above their glaciated valleys
with compassionate repasts to share.
Are they cursed by Narnias queen
to live evermore in cheerless winter?
She is not their ruler for they know
a joy where winter is never keen,
they live aglow in a warmth
to a spring born is never seen.

I am of the winterbourne,
living constantly from storm to storm.
In the quiet before each whitewashed tempest,
I gather to see my days gone by.
I see unclouded firmament, sunny skies,
rainbow with a promise of better days,
a lingering unmelted powder,
grayness gone adrift.
Constant celebration of winter solstice
has me thrive,
with the storms passing I feel alive.
I have felt the sunbeams brightness
through the wintry sky.
My spirit feels springs lightness
in my winter life.


Comments about Winter Born And Live by Sandra Dodd

  • (1/31/2010 4:28:00 PM)


    This reads like the confession of a nun dying from over exposure to nature and the elements. I now have a severe migrane, and feel like departing to the nearest pavement where I shall rest my head on the curb, and wait for a white van to run over my neck, whereupon the blood will merrily squirt from my ears.
    ___________________________________________________________________
    Poem for Sandra:
    'Language'. By John Burnside.
    The deep house; the other.
    Names I have yet to find
    on the boarders of language,
    words between silt and swan
    denoting the fish pool and tree fern
    household that stands for the self
    in dreams: the mysterious,
    perched on the tripwire of being
    another's exact opposition,
    arrived when the city is finally
    still, the neighbourhood stopped,
    the suburb's fastidious
    gardens gift wrapped in dew.

    PS: You are a very passionate writer........
    (Report) Reply

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  • (1/30/2010 4:51:00 PM)


    they live aglow in a warmth
    to a spring born is never seen.


    Great job. I will be reading this one again and again.
    (Report) Reply

  • (1/26/2010 6:32:00 AM)


    Some people enter the world
    to indigo skies,
    the sun beams
    on their blessed souls
    season after season.

    wow that is so beautiful so appealing
    (Report) Reply

  • (1/26/2010 6:06:00 AM)


    ' My spirit feels spring lightness ' captures all the words. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, January 26, 2010



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