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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=583832" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Winter's Whitest Spurts</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Although John Clare declared that he<br>saw spring in winter’s whitest spurts, <br>for many this is hard to see<br>when, freezing, all our body hurts, <br>and winter’s direst discontent<br>makes cold blasts pierce the frozen soul.<br>We wonder where the summer went<br>when icy winds exact their toll, <br>and whistling toll for all of us<br>on nights we wish would be more silent.<br>each blast a blaring blunderbuss<br>that’s aimed to make us all an island, <br>disconnected from the spring<br>and summer, fall, that we remember<br>when we for warmth our cold arms fling<br>around each other in December.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Inspired by John Clare’s “The Winter’s Spring”: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE winter comes; I walk alone, <br>I want no bird to sing; <br>To those who keep their hearts their own <br>The winter is the spring. <br>No flowers to please-no bees to hum- <br>The coming spring's already come. <br>I never want the Christmas rose <br>To come before its time; <br>The seasons, each as God bestows, <br>Are simple and sublime. <br>I love to see the snowstorm hing; <br>'Tis but the winter garb of spring. <br>I never want the grass to bloom: <br>The snowstorm's best in white. <br>I love to see the tempest come <br>And love its piercing light. <br>The dazzled eyes that love to cling <br>O'er snow-white meadows sees the spring. <br>I love the snow, the crumpling snow <br>That hangs on everything, <br>It covers everything below <br>Like white dove's brooding wing, <br>A landscape to the aching sight, <br>A vast expanse of dazzling light. <br>It is the foliage of the woods <br>That winters bring-the dress, <br>White Easter of the year in bud, <br>That makes the winter Spring. <br>The frost and snow his posies bring, <br>Nature's white spurts of the spring. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">12/24/09</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Gershon+Hepner">Gershon Hepner</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=583832" data-title="Winter's Whitest Spurts de Gershon Hepner" data-description="Although John Clare declared that he
saw spring in winter’s whitest spurts, 
for many this is hard to see
when, freezing, all our body hurts, 
and winter’s direst discontent
makes cold blasts pierce the frozen soul.
We wonder where the summer ..."></div>
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