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Selfless

Hope falling down like pristine snow
Blankets with purity all that we know
Picturesque landscapes, glistening frost
Billowing drifts where snowflakes were tossed
White panoramas, vistas of down
Legions of glitter that litter the ground
Shining so bright, for there’s not long to live
They’ll offer everything they’ve got to give
Sun bathed, diffuse now, to air and to earth
Dying so others may taste a new birth

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
Snowfall is truly a cleansing and magical experience. My inner child sings. I also dislike winter, I’m getting older and I work outdoors.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

this sounds like a snow-skiier's eye view! cutting a path, a fresh path through pristine snow. it is like church bells ringing!

*hugs, Cat

*
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I love the clean air of snowfall all loaded with ozone. The beauty of it’s stark white simplicity. Then I have to shovel out my house or worse my job site and I forget how awesome it is for the soul. I have done a fair deal of skiing which adds the adrenaline to the package. Pretty rad.

Tim

author comment

I love the new fallen snow. Until I have to deal with it on a personal basis! Then it sucks. Not so much as when I was still capable [and had to] shovel it. But walking in it and making sure I don't fall with that 12-14 lb. portable [they say] air tank and have it land on me or me on it, is a real fkin' pain in the ass! It does do something for the landscape though, especially living here in the city; it covers up a lot of the ugly, dirty stuff and makes it a beautiful scene. I really like this one, both for how it makes me feel and how you relate to it. However, I am not sure about the line that goes: "Legions of small precious stones are abound." I get what you are going for here, but not sure that you get there. How about: Sparkling sheets of flakes, that cover the ground. The rest is magical. ~ Geez.
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There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

I’m not opposed to changes. Lemme roll it around and see what I come up with. Thanks as always for reading and critique.

Good looking out
Tim

author comment

Legions of diamonds that litter the ground

author comment

I am not seeing diamonds in the snow, but that's just me, I suppose. It works well enough. ~ Geez.
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There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

Legions of glitter that litter the ground.

Better??

author comment

Of Stairway to heaven

~RoseBlack~

That’s high praise. Those are some great lyrics.

author comment

Lyrics!! One of my favorites

~RoseBlack~

Tsunamis of glitter that litter the ground!
~ Geez.
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There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

I love it especially the rhymes well done poetess

Hi, Tim,
Nature, as in the snow in your poem, gives over and over again and asks for nothing in return but its place in the cycle of life. I love the reference to shining so bright because there is so little time. Precious. The title adds depth, and along with the final line, the theme is strong, yet very tender.
Thank you!
L

so beautiful and pristine about freshly fallen snow. I like it when it is in its infancy but after that, it can melt and go away. Well done as always!

~RoseBlack~

I came to read and to offer some critique and I only found myself enchanted and enthralled by your snowy poem, it's gorgeous, I really love this. Coming from a hot country I find myself drawn to the coldness and spotless beauty of the snow I've only every seen a light scattering of snow, one day I would love to play in drifts lol

sincerely Jayne-Chloe

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

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