Poetry With A Mission



...a thought provoking poetical exercise.

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A Wintry Night

Flames lick at the glowing wood thus sending warmth into the room,
Where curtains cover windows thus shutting out the winter’s gloom.
And someone’s sitting in a chair that’s beside an open fire,
They sipping from a steaming mug in their winter night attire.

Icy wind rattles latches and whistles around draughty doors,
Sending its chilly tentacles into darkened corridors.
Hail raps on the window panes and misty showers come and go,
Midst bouts of angry thunder that shakes the house where lights still glow.

Someone has dozed off in their chair, snoring rather noisily,
Draped in a woolly blanket, and lost in dreams of life at sea.
The fire’s slowly dying, so soon the temperature will fall,
Thus stirring the old sleepyhead, who, into his bed will crawl.

Kitty is curled up on the floor in a fury little ball,
Catching all the heat she can, for there’ll soon be none at all.
Her backs turned to the fire where now just dying embers glow,
And inside the house she will stay until outside she must go.

An ancient, grey grandfather clock stares out from its lofty view,
Standing guard inside the room, at the ready to chime on cue.
And the hands on the old clock’s face reveal that midnight is near,
And so, as soon as midnight comes, its loud chimes will fill the air.

There are mice in the kitchen nibbling at a large piece of cheese,
While kitty’s soundly sleeping, dreaming of these mice she will tease.
But right now, they are enjoying all the cheese that they can eat,
Though listening most intently for the sound of paws or feet.

And when those midnight chimes ring out, old sleepyhead will awake,
And also little kitty who will stretch and then a walk take.
And sleepyhead will make his way to the old four poster bed,
And shortly, little kitty, no doubt smug and very well fed.

By Lance Landall


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