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Behind the Grindstone: Snowflakes

By Bill Bunting

January 12, 2024

Of fragile flakes the poets write
Falling on the winter’s night
Like feathers of the purest white
Oh, the snow, what a delight

A carpet of white oh so deep
Gently falling while man’s asleep
Sparkling diamonds in the morning light
Oh, the snow, what a delight
Like sugar sprinkled across a cake
Dusted with each tiny flake
None too large and none too slight
Oh, the snow, what a delight

Snowflakes fluttering on the breeze
Lightly dusting on the trees
Twirling, swirling in their flight
Oh, the snow, what a delight

Bringing thoughts of romance
As we watch the snowflakes dance
Falling from so great a height
Oh, the snow, what a delight

Of swirling flakes the ranchers write
Howling winds into the night
Little arrows of stinging white
Oh, the snow, we have to fight

Snow is blowing drifting deep
Thoughts of cattle, a man can’t sleep
Blizzard blowing in the morning light
Oh, the snow, we have to fight

Try to get the cattle fed
More to come the forecast said
Nothing to see but blinding white
Oh, the snow, we have to fight

Drifted deep the hard packed snow
Driven by the winter blow
Twirling, swirling in their flight
Oh, the snow, we have to fight

All work is done that can be done
Temperature drops with the fading sun
Storm still rages in the fading light
Oh, the snow, we have to fight

But when the grass greens in the spring
From the water the snowflakes bring
Then we can say, the poets right
Oh, the snow, what a delight

At least, that’s the view here from behind the grindstone.

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