WHERE THE WIND BLOWS

WHERE THE WIND BLOWS

The trees of the forest shiver and shake.

Their long limbs tremble from the next quake.

Their bodies blaze a frosted white.

With tears frozen from their new plight. 

The world has become hard and cold.

My trembling body feels old.

I’m surrounded on four sides by white. 

The bright glare has blinded my sight.

White is the color of my nightgown

As I stand and shiver with a frown.

A shadow emerges from the trees.

I hope it is not him, pretty please.

My body moves forward against my will.

I grab a thick tree and try to hold still.

I dig my feet into the packed snow,

But I must go where the wind might blow.

A FEW MORE STEPS

Icy cold.

My toes turn numb.

My fingers tingle.

The wind howls.

Sleep tempts me.

But I must continue.

A few more steps.

Silence wraps around me.

I raise my face to the sky.

The colors take my breath away.

THE WINDS MOAN

The winds moan.
The inn shakes.
Footsteps echo above us.
Have the police found the killer?
The house becomes quiet.
Nature stills as if holding its breath.
I stare at my shivering guests
before the lights go out.

MEET ME IN MAINE

by Susanne Leist

http://amzn.to/3YKZKqN

SNOWBOUND

Snowbound at the inn,

no one can get in,

besides the cursed one

who has already won,

by picking off bodies,

one by one.

MEET ME IN MAINE

by Susanne Leist

http://amzn.to/3z0EcsQ

WHERE THE WIND BLOWS

The trees of the forest shiver and shake,

their long limbs trembling from the last quake.

Their bodies blaze a glaring white

with tears frozen from their new plight. 

The world has become hard and cold.

My trembling body feels old.

Surrounded on four sides by white, 

the bright glare blinded my sight.

White is the color of my nightgown

as I stand and shiver with a frown.

A shadow emerges from the trees.

I hope it is not him, pretty please.

My body moves forward against my will.

I grab a thick tree and try to hold still.

I dig my feet into the packed snow,

but I must go where the wind might blow.

WHERE THE WINDS BLOW

The trees of the forest shake,

their limbs fearing the next quake.

Their thick trunks glisten in white,

with tears frozen from their plight. 

Surrounded on four sides by white, 

the bright glare has blinded my sight.

A shadow emerges from the trees.

I hope it is not him, pretty please.

My body moves forward against my will.

I grab a tree trunk and try to hold still.

I dig my feet into the packed snow,

but I must go where the wind will blow.

MURDERS AND LOVERS

Source: 4allgoodthings

Read a book by the fire.

The pages will shine brighter.

I don’t need to fight the snowdrifts.

I’ll stay inside with the misfits.

The ones who prefer books

that grab you with their hooks.

The fire is getting low

as the strong winds begin to blow.

I snuggle farther beneath the covers

as I read about murders and lovers.

ESCAPE THE SNOWSTORM

The Dead walk the bitter cold.

Florida nights have lost their charm.

Wolf may be centuries old,

But he will never do me harm.

THE DEAD GAME

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

SNOW

THE FIRST SNOW
How does this picture make you feel? Peaceful, serene, eager for the first snowfall? I feel all the above. For a day, the city streets look clean. Without the backlash of society, this scene could remain pure and untouched for days, weeks, or even months. Bring it on!

The First Snowstorm

Snow covers the ground with its white purity. Everything is whispered clean. Sounds are muted. Animals go into hiding. The deeper the snow, fewer the cars that can be seen traveling the roads. A hush falls across towns and cities. We are able to take in a deep breath, step back, and enjoy the beauty left behind after the snowstorm. There's no hurry. Cars are buried. Mass transit is shut down. We have time for family and snow ball fights. Sleds sliding down newly created hills. Hot chocolate in front of the fire. Marshmallows roasting on sticks. I have my boots and gloves. I'm Ready!