I have not linked with Mama Kat's Weekly Writing Workshop in a while, but I could not resist this week's prompt: A poem about a snow memory. The first time I saw snow is engraved vividly in my mind, so please bear with my rhyming and poor stanzas. I have never written a poem in English before...
It does not snow in my homeland
At least never in my city;
It does in the snow-capped mountains
That fill the Andes with their beauty.
So for a girl of sixteen
Who had never seen a snow fall,
The anticipation and excitement
Could barely be contained at all.
It was very cold that first winter
We spent in this, our new territory,
But snow was taking its time,
Hiding its white, fluffy glory.
Finally on a week day morning,
While solving equations in math class,
Someone shouted, “Hey there, Gaby!
Look outside that window’s glass!”
They were soft, gentle and quiet,
They were dancing, swirling, and twirling,
The little snow flurry crystals
Were teasing and were enticing.
Pleadingly I looked at my teacher,
For I was sitting clear across the room
And the snow beckoned me to touch it,
To feel it, to taste it, and soon.
I must have looked very desperate
And I didn’t want to miss a flurry,
For the teacher smiled and motioned
And I was at the window in a hurry.
I stuck my hand out the opening
And marveled at the sensations on my fingers;
I stuck my head, my tongue, both arms,
And laughed at how snow in dark hair lingers.
It is a happy memory during a bitter-sweet time
Of leaving, struggling, changing,
Of growing up away from familiar,
Of expanding, of growing, and learning.
That first year in our new country
Was both exciting and painful.
For the new life I’m delighted