'Snow Bound'

From ‘Snow Bound’

John Greenleaf Whittier

The moon above the eastern wood

Shone at its full; the hill-range stood

Transfigured in the silver flood.

Its blown snows flashing cold and keen,

Dead white, save where some sharp

ravine

Took shadow, or the somber green

Of hemlocks turned to pitchy black

Against the whiteness at their back.

For such a world and such a night

Most fitting that unwarming light,

Which only seemed wherever it fell

To make the coldness visible.

The Mist and All

Have I shared this poem yet?

It has been my favorite for a long time. Even before my first bell bottoms.

If it isn't a misty day today feel free to read it again on a day that is.

The Mist and All

by Dixie Willson

I like the fall


The mist and all


I like the night owl’s lonely call


And wailing sound


Of wind around

I like the gray


November day


And dead, bare boughs

that coldly sway


Against my pane


I like the rain

I like to sit

And laugh at it


And tend my cozy fire a bit


I like the fall


The mist and all