Hope springs eternal

From the sky fall little white pellets
Not quite snow and not yet hail it’s
A chilly reminder of winter’s hold.
The wind blows fierce and wild and cold.
Bright wool hats pulled tight and low
As folks rush home to a hearth-side glow.
To dream of days both warm and long
With sunshine, picnics, campfire songs.
And as they huddle ‘neath quilts of blue,
With cocoa, tea, and hot soup, too
Old man winter blows one last blast
While daffodils promise the worst has passed.
— me. 🙂

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About wonkydonkey

You want random? You got it. Mostly knitting and gardening, with some home improvements, pets, baking, family, and the occasional bad joke thrown in for good measure. This blog is mine; it is a place where I can insist upon proper grammar or break my own rules and degrade into slang on a whim. Either way, it's still mine. I love the Internet.
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