A Simple Snowflake

That is the title of the latest of my poems. Fortunately, most of the real snowflakes have melted, and despite what you read in the poem I don't mourn the loss one bit. :) I can't wait for summer! Anyway, the poem is pretty self-explanatory as far as meaning goes, though something to think about, what might the snowflakes spoken of in the second stanza symbolize, and how would the effect the meaning of the last two lines? Anyway, enough dithering from me. Here's the poem!


A Simple Snowflake

The day is cold, but I am hot,
For I have shoveled quite a lot.
Though all at once from toil I stop
To watch a snowflake on my mitten drop.
I bend and closer look I take
And instantly my job forsake;
On my mitten all serene
Is beauty like I’ve never seen!
A surging geyser of delight
Tells me, “Jump with all your might!”
But I won’t move
For it would behoove
My rapturous heart at once to break
Should I damage my dear snowflake.

I sit and ponder what I see;
A perfect, shapely symmetry.
I know that every single flake
Is different in its form and make.
But how when they’re so bountiful,
Can each one be so beautiful?
Their beauty is in difference,
And in their difference wonder;
That each one is so much the same
But different from any other.
Yet here’s my snowflake crystalline,
Its symmetry divine.
A spir’d pattern, without a doubt,
Repeated round about.

Finally with gaping jaw
I see a lesson filled with awe:
Beauty is to be unique,
But shapely meaning still to seek.



The Owner, Heirron

Sublime Sleep, or Something Like That

I was tired when I wrote this. 'Nuff said.


Slumber Sweet
Drifting, dreaming, fading away;
A mind that leaves behind the day
Is wafting up while body slumbers
To where time has not its numbers.

High in lofty dreams the mind
Does gleefully its play unwind,
As the body, in sweet repose,
No sign of disturbance shows.

Yet still, in such a restful place,
The mind must sometimes dark things face.
But after turmoil does ensue
Peacefulness the more rings true.

Blessings on your golden sleep,
May’t be always lush and deep.


The Owner, Heirron