A Winter Gift
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O winter's cruel winds are cold in the blood and bone!
Currently, the days are silent and stern as stones.
As I reach out for a pen to compose new forms,
Outside the surreal, feathered snow begins to fall:
Nature's unique gift to this barest of seasons.
However strange things become, She has her reasons.
O we poets transcribe how her purpose unfolds!
Like an alchemist, she changes base earth to gold.
Bu şiiri puanla
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