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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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