Snow nestled in silent hills
Silence in the frozen chill
Awake to the dawn of a wonderland
Beneath a sky painted by nature’s hand
Your whispered breath on the window pane
Mist of tears in your eyes gain
Momentum, then fall in heaves and sighs
You want to share the heightened emotion
But all that you see is your own devotion
He would have loved the snow
For he had no where to go
Now he dwells at heaven’s door
Asking nothing, feeling the cold no more
Deborah A. Bowman
A quiet holiday I crave
To reflect on all the blessings gave
To me this past year
When I have known such fear
And shed so many tears…
After the holidays, after the winter snow
Spring’s warmth will come to show
To a brighter day!
by Deborah A. Bowman
The cold of Winter has turned my thoughts inward…
Reflecting on things that were;
Visualizing what’s to be.
Will I make the same mistakes and rise like the sea
In turmoil, solitude lost in my words?
The voices within just want to be heard,
Crying out to be released.
The long nights of Winter can increase
Your inspiration, as you withdraw to rest.
You’re free to search your soul and confess
Your innermost desires and secrets in verse,
Drawings, paintings, prose, or simply rehearse
Dialogue from imagined friends out loud.
Because only you can restrict or allow
The words, the images, the scenes that unfold
Into stories that must be told.
–Deborah A. Bowman