I have a love affair with winter.

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I don’t consider myself to be a poet, and I rarely enjoy poetry unless by some long-dead great. But every once in a while (this means like every couple years), I let myself dabble in poetry. Here’s my favorite (and probably the best) poem that I’ve ever written.

 

I have a love affair with winter.

His breath puts color in my cheek

And sends a shiver down my spine.

His character is anything but meek.

Coolly, he states, “All this is mine.”

 

I have a love affair with winter.

He stalks every being with ice.

Lean deer frantically race away.

For winter is anything but nice,

As we all perceive within a day.

 

I have a love affair with winter.

On the coolest eve, he’s at his best.

Demandingly, he reigns with white.

His temperament allows no rest;

he glories in his very might.

 

I have a love affair with winter.

And yet, when he loses his hold,

I am glad to be free of his grasp.

His weakness comes; I am told.

Spring, my friend, I clasp.

 

What About You?

 

Do you love poetry? Who’s your favorite poet?

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