By Clive Reed
How much like winter has this illness been?
The icy blast that caught us unaware
And kept us locked inside a fortnight long,
As danger lurked beneath its icy stare.
While tireless crews would help to clear the way,
We trudged with care along our daily path.
But those in blindness mocked and carried on,
Despite the calls of those who knew the math.
And by the wayside fell the meek and frail,
As godlike warriors beat upon their chest.
Burdened by the scales of life and death,
Brave souls searched out a place to gather rest.
As sun and warmth returned to thaw the fears,
Hope shone in scattered beams along the ground.
Cold winds brought down another layer of snow
And signs of spring were nowhere to be found.
Although the cold and ice will surely pass,
As sun injects protection through our veins.
The end of winter seems a long way off,
An arduous journey full of death and pain.
But spring will find a way to end the grip
Of frigid air forbidding it to start.
A vile of sunshine hides behind the clouds.
A messenger with a code to heal our hearts.
My Name is Clive Reed and I’m from London Ontario Canada. I write poetry as a hobby and composed this poem on a cold night in January.