Icy rain comes with a crinkling sound
Like little silver coins falling on grounds
Tree limbs covered with translucent ice
Channels of pure white gleaming calm.
In icy storm proud oak to earth stumbles
Aromatic bushes are much more humble
Intact is the grace of their ice laden veins
Bowing in reverence for mighty Rummager.
In opaque sunlight plump scarlet berries
And metallic ice enhanced the olive curves
Of bent bushes like crimson cheeks and skin
Luminous adorn a maiden's clandestine arc.
Power outage, phone and Internet gone
Forget about connecting to world for fun
Ponder upon slavery of new convenience
And think of sustaining with bare essentials.
but who would remember the deadly storm
In morning light the heart merrily romps
Transient is the wondrous beauty of icicles
Pain and glee of nature such as don't last.
11.30.2015
Wow this is wonderful description of a cold icy winter day, you took me straight to my native land walking with an awe of the snow covered beautiful land on a perfect stroll after snowfall and a heart filled with a million dreams of a beautiful world of mine and of everybody. Perfect and thanks for sharing.
An impressive description of painful winter.......................
With crinkling sound ice rain comes and this is very fantastically presented in this poem. Metallic ice enhances the olive curves. Very wise and interesting sharing definitely. This poem draws a real imagery.10
Nice imagery and beautiful poem on Winter season. I liked it...
A winter scene is beautifully described! In a warm room, lit by the fires, it is fun standing by the window and watching the snow laden Earth and snow covered trees. But going out will be tortuous as Tirupathi sir has commented! A lovely poem!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Icy storm is delightful to watch from the window. Beauty gets a solid shape. It is hard to pass it by venturing out. Beautiful poem.
Thank you for your comment Tiripathi Ji. This ice storm kept us with out electricity, heat, phone, t.v. Or Internet for two days but the beauty of icicles kept my spirit up and resulted in a poem.