Winter Freeze

I think I was about ten when I fell in love with poetry. At first, anything that rhymed caught my attention, but as I grew my poetic preferences matured as well.  When I was a sophomore in high school, my English teacher, Sister Rosemarie entered one of my poems in a national contest. After months of waiting, I received a letter saying my submission was selected and would be published in the National Poetry Anthology come spring. Finally the day arrived when my teacher handed me the official book, was asked to read my work to the class, and was graciously applauded for my success. I was on cloud nine!

Funny thing though, I couldn't tell you where that prized possession was now if you paid me, and I haven't a clue as to what the title of my poem might have been. Over the years, my writing has evolved, but every now and then I return to my beginnings and scratch out a poem or two. Since this winter has been hanging on like a bad cough causing me great angst, I decided to pen my frustrations in poetic fashion. Since I rarely do poetry now, I'm not promising national contest quality, but hopefully WINTER FREEZE will strike a cord with some of you. Enjoy!


   WINTER FREEZE

Like the arrogant thief
Who creeps into a home
Uninvited,
Taking valuable treasures,
So too, the Winter Freeze
Seeps under the door frames
Undetected,
Stealing warmth.

Long days foster dejection,
Despondency leads to defeat.
Vilified,
My happiness is gone.
Joy and laughter cease
Replaced with soulless stares.
Disappointed,
I retreat.

With frustration mounting,
Hot anger bubbling up,
Violated,
I relinquish my spirit.
Depression weighs on me,
Helplessness abounds,
Disheartened,
I surrender.

Death is everywhere now.
Nature has lost its fight,
Denigrated
The world compromises.
I die a little, too.
Devoid of thought and zest,
Unmotivated,
I succumb.

When, if ever, will it end?
Frigid cold, howling winds
Unrelenting,
Chafe the skin, dry the throat.
The Winter Freeze pities not
Woman, man, or child,
Wielding
It's power.

Why am I abandoned?
Does God not hear my cries?
Unheard,
Despair knocks me down.
Yet with little breath left
 And determined purpose,
Unflinching
I rise.

The absent sun appears
Warming the desolate earth,
Undeniably
Restoring faith once again!
As Spring begins to emerge
So does a Winter's prisoner,
Unchained
I celebrate!


I'd like to know what you think, but since poets tend to be somewhat wimpy when it comes to reviews, please be gentle!

Blessings and Peace