SnoWalker has been a member since 4/15/08 and was last logged in on 7/3/17
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About me
Hi there, thanks for dropping in. I'm 65 yrs. old and live in Twinsburg, Ohio USA. While you're here, sit down by the fireplace, put your feet up. Coffee? Take a look at the photo's, I enjoy winter and lots of snow. Before you go, please visit my guestbook and jot down a word or two. Stop by again soon!
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Meanwhile, enjoy these while I get the coffee.
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DUST OF SNOW
by
ROBERT FROST
The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
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Snow-Flakes
by Henry Longfellow
Out of the bosom of the Air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.
Even as our cloudy fancies take
Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
In the white countenance confession,
The troubled sky reveals
The grief it feels.
This is the poem of the air,
Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
Now whispered and revealed
To wood and field.
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The Quiet Snow
By
Raymond Knister
The quiet snow
Will splotch
Each row in the cedars
With a fine
And patient hand;
Numb the harshness,
Tangle of that swamp.
It does not say, the sun
Does these things another way.
Even on hats of walkers,
The air of noise
And street-car ledges
It does not know
There should be a hurry.