Admission of Defeat.

poem in rhyming quatrains

 

Admission of Defeat.

 

The roads across the windswept moors.

Fresh falling snow quickly obscures.

Any signs  there might  possibly

be a road. Nothing you can see

 

but fallen snow and falling snow

Which drifting in the winds that blow

 will close the roads effectively.

There is no possibility

 

you can continue on your way.

Today is not your lucky day.

You turn your car and drive back home.

Where you will get a warm welcome.

 

From your worried family

Who were afraid that you might be

freezing to death trapped by the snow

in temperatures below zero.

 

 But you survived because you knew

Exactly what you had to do

By driving slow and carefully

 to where the roads were trouble free.

 

It’s obvious you understood

When Natures in angry mood

The high moors aren’t the place to be.

Only a fool would disagree.

 

Monday, 19 December 2011

http:// blog.myspace com/poeticpiers