william mcgehee Poems
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From the beds where the angels keep
Their watch throughout eternity
Upon the world where mortals sleep
The first snowflake falls so gently.
The soundless teardrops fill the sky
Frozen so that the world may see
The forms that oft escape the eye,
So seldom shown to you and me.
Now ages cease and halt their stride
For moment’s stop and time is dead.
It stays there till the morning tide
When waking steals me from my bed,
Rising to the blanket of snow
And so restarts time’s ebb and flow.
She is sensuality
She is permanent and cold.
She is all reality,
Depicted young but ages old
Her hands are stuff but nimble.
Her figure still but living
And undying hopfull symbol
Of providence and of forgiving.