Jacks cold nose(winter)A Poem by GeeA winter morning
Now all is touched by Jacks cold nose,
dusted white the neat hedgerows, where spiders webs hang iced in place, like doilies spun from finest lace. Whilst trees arthritic, stark and bare reach for a warmth no longer there, from a fading sun in wintery skies, as the last of Autumn falls and dies. © 2022 GeeAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorGeeMilton keynes, United KingdomAboutDevoted family man and lover of life. Simply written, easily understood "stuff" for those without code breaking skills. You will NEVER need Google to understand me:) more..Writing
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