The first snow
Floating thick from over head
billowy soft as a featherbed
the first snowflakes are seen.
They flit and dance without a care
on winds that blew
through the long dark wintry night.
Strange and awesome to behold
are flakes that seem suspended there
hanging on nothing in mid air, dancing in delight
o'er fields that yesterday were green
and now are white.
Three candles standing in a row
emitting a warm and golden glow
flame yellow, blue and red.
Flickering flames dancing in the hall
throwing shadows upon my wall
like angels winging overhead.
There's nothing here to disturb the dream
unfolding in the candles gleam.
Nothing heard. Nothing said.
Quiet and peaceful through the night
in the melting candle light
soft tears of wax are shed.
all poems on this page written by Joy Cenicola page 5