KEEPING A TRADITION

KEEPING A TRADITION
Thursday, November 15, 2018 by Leona Choy

It’s a tradition, so they say, if you do something more than once. Absolutely—if you repeat it for 11 years! For the past more than a decade that I have been posting on my blog, as winter approached I shared the following of my collection of Winter Poems when we had our first snow. Well, big flakes are coming down as I write and I can hardly see my car in the driveway. For my cyber friends who live in the Southern climes—curb your envy. Just confess that you miss the delightful change of seasons!

The poem is excerpted from my book PSALMS OF MY HARVEST on p. 117. I can’t break tradition this year:

Winter in My Valley

The wind whines in a minor key
blowing its icy breath
through cracks in our doors
feeling with frigid fingers
for gaps 'neath window sills.
The gust heralds a blizzard that lurks
in the somber gray stretch of sky
and advances with threatening certainty.

As if to toll a frantic warning bell
the wind tugs at the oak tops
shaking the nearly naked branches
showering the ground beneath
with a flurry of faded leaves.

Sniffing the scent of winter
small prepper creatures scurry about
furtively preparing shelters
vying with burrowing insects
to stockpile their larders
in the seasonal struggle for survival
while pond life retreats to deepest waters
and puts vital signs "on hold" till Spring.

Sudden dusk descends on The Valley.

A hush settles over the silhouetted landscape
the gusty gale subsides, its announcement dispatched.

The first few flakes of snow soon merge
into sifting, swirling powdered sugar
swiftly frosting peaks of pointed frozen grass
into stiff meringue on neighboring field and hill
until a silver coverlet obliterates the familiar.

Accept my invitation, friend
to welcome the appointed storm
by enjoying the polar panorama together
before the warmth of our crackling hearth.
Join me in retreat behind our Jack-Frost windows
to view the outdoor bluster silently
in snug pleasure and the treasure

of good company as we toast our toes

and drink a toast to the impending snows.

So let us celebrate the manifest cycle of seasons
and winter's measured approach
in the Shenandoah Valley.

Comments

John From Round Hill At 11/20/2018 10:06:32 AM

Leona, how do you do that. The end of the poem got me good. Writing poetry well requires discipline and restraint, and you showed both while hitting the bul's eye (of my heart). Thank you. John, the Elder

Fran Johnson From Northglenn, Colorado At 11/17/2018 1:01:22 AM

I so enjoyed your winter wonderland writing. It takes me back to rural South Dakota, the unexpected first snow and we kids got to stay home from school in order to move all the hens and grown chicks to the big coop. to this day, the first snow thrills me, and then I remember, oh gosh, I have no w

Reply by: Leona Choy

Hi Fran, thank you for the shared memories. I grew up in Iowa. You made me curious when your sentence ran out of space. What don't you "...have no....?

Fran Johnson From Northglenn, Colorado At 11/17/2018 1:01:21 AM

Pat Christ From Eastern PA At 11/16/2018 3:50:15 PM

Aaaah yesterday, we so enjoyed the first big early snow this season offered too. Thanks for your poem.

Roger Warda From Macomb Township MI At 11/16/2018 2:26:19 PM

I will soon meet with the surgeon for the results of my abdominal surgery. With your permission Leona I would like to offer a copy of your WINTER POEM with my doctor and his staff. Perhaps it'll be shared with other medical personnel, or displayed in the hospital entrance for others to enjoy.

Kay Dawson From Winchester, Virginia At 11/16/2018 8:34:44 AM

You caught it all! What struck me this morning as I looked out my window is how the leaves were in a polka dot pattern, a new and different look. An early snow that beat the last of the leaves to the ground, always a surprise or two it seems.