SMALL PASSENGER

SUNDAY MUSE #87

Do you mind, glorious white charger
if I  snuggle in  your mane
I’m used to warmer climes
where there’s no snow, but rain

My friends have all flown south
and I find myself quite alone
unaccustomed to this white stuff
and chilled quite to the bone

I’m asking for permission
in hopes you’ll say all right
my southward journey was booked
but alas I’ve missed my flight

You seem a friendly fellow
you’ll hardly know I’m here
I’m sure we can be the best of friends
by the time it’s Spring next year.

SEASONS

Tuesday Poetics and we're asked to
write a poem incorporating a word
ending in "less" and engendering
hopefulness for the Advent season
I've reflected on the seasons of life.
Submitted to dVerse
December 2, 2019
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Dark clouds scud across obsidian skies
Harbingers of winter winds and lonely nights
When the restless heart begins to count
Too many wrongs to make a right

Soon snow will fall and cover ugly
Bad times and bad dreams fade away
Time for sitting by the fireplace
Finding solace in the light of day

Having learned a lot about forgiveness
For all the wrongs that once caused misery
Lessons learned and second chances
Come at last with age and set us free.