Hope the Hermit

Fiction & Literature, Poetry
Cover of the book Hope the Hermit by Terry Trainor, Terry Trainor
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Author: Terry Trainor ISBN: 9781465921628
Publisher: Terry Trainor Publication: December 1, 2011
Imprint: Smashwords Edition Language: English
Author: Terry Trainor
ISBN: 9781465921628
Publisher: Terry Trainor
Publication: December 1, 2011
Imprint: Smashwords Edition
Language: English

Do you remember winters long long ago, when we had our youth?
With delight, as a child, when snow began to fall, and melt,
When the flakes first came down, dancing, waltzes in the wind,
To the darkness of a blizzard in an early January afternoon.
The earth was lost, hidden, under this soft white covering
And the school bell rang with joy to end the lessons early,
Walking on the thick snow there was a wonderful silence,
Being sent home early, playing and laughing, it was heaven.
The following morning waking early, praying it had snowed more,
Gingerly looking through the a small gap a the side of your curtain,
The snowy deluge still fell heavily and the street was filled,
The garden, the path, the road had no edges it was all as one.
Our garden was several feet deep with snow and the trees dipped,
There was tiny paw prints in the whitest snow, the cats paws cold,
It covered the rooftops, and swept against walls, high and steep,
As you opened the back door a fresh smell of snow made you smile.
People were out shoveling their paths and throwing down ashes,

View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart

Do you remember winters long long ago, when we had our youth?
With delight, as a child, when snow began to fall, and melt,
When the flakes first came down, dancing, waltzes in the wind,
To the darkness of a blizzard in an early January afternoon.
The earth was lost, hidden, under this soft white covering
And the school bell rang with joy to end the lessons early,
Walking on the thick snow there was a wonderful silence,
Being sent home early, playing and laughing, it was heaven.
The following morning waking early, praying it had snowed more,
Gingerly looking through the a small gap a the side of your curtain,
The snowy deluge still fell heavily and the street was filled,
The garden, the path, the road had no edges it was all as one.
Our garden was several feet deep with snow and the trees dipped,
There was tiny paw prints in the whitest snow, the cats paws cold,
It covered the rooftops, and swept against walls, high and steep,
As you opened the back door a fresh smell of snow made you smile.
People were out shoveling their paths and throwing down ashes,

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