The Road to Paradise Pocket
“Come now little one, under your covers you go” A booming voice sounded throughout a dimly lit rustic cabin.
Tiny feet began thumping a few rooms over as the large gray man sat on a bedside stool and gazed out into the blowing snow outside. It had been snowing for days now, another day and his view of the outside may begin to obscure. He could hear the wind breaking now though, not as harsh and powerful as it had been the day before, his vision a few yards further, and the sun a hair brighter that afternoon. Yes it would break by morning, the snow would stop and the sun would cast its warm healing rays over the tiny frozen town.
Comments (10)
You know the old saying, “don’t eat yellow snow.” 😂😂
Clever! :))
LOL great happy poem.
😂😂😢I guess other times of the year we can ignore what we are walking on in the yard when we have dogs. One of our dogs used to go out into the field to do his business. I thought about it when other dogs would be visiting though. I used to go barefoot all of the time. It has been years now, but I still think of that when this subject come up!!😉😂
Hahahahahahhahahahaha I wasn't expected that! Loved your Haiku!
Something so pure is now dirty but nonetheless it's true.
No longer pure white is it? Great haiku
Do not eat the yellow snow. Love the image and at times it is a dog's life and hope for a new layer of white.
A cute haiku, Daphne!
haha! love this!