Poem!šŸ’–

I’ve been thinking of doing a poem for a long time and here it is.

Winter

Frost curls up on my window,

Like my cat inside.

I run my hands through the condensation.

I Whisper ‘it’s winter

The winter like sun shone through the Grey, Puffed up clouds

The grass is as moist as fruitcake freshly baked.

It’s winter.

It’s winter.

Published by Flora's Week Show

Hi, I'm Flora, I have a podcast called Flora's Week Show on Podbean. From Flora

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