Sunday #Poetry: Mid Winter

“Poetry is truth in its Sunday clothes.” ~Joseph Roux “Mid Winter” Carolyn Crosby Wilson IF I were God, I'd mould hills rolling low, Smooth them and shape them, sift them deep with snow, And scatter them with furze that they might lie Softly, against the wide deep-tinted sky. In slow caress my forming hand would …

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Sunday #Poetry: Woods In Winter

"Poetry is truth in its Sunday clothes.” ~Joseph Roux “Woods In Winter” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow WHEN winter winds are piercing chill, And through the hawthorn blows the gale, With solemn feet I tread the hill, That overbrows the lonely vale. O'er the bare upland, and away Through the long reach of desert woods, The embracing …