Thomas L. Dynneson

The Winter Storm

 

Usually Texas is a sunny place

We seldom burn the fireplace

 

A great storm came and changed its face

Now we burn the fireplace

 

The wood we burn is from the farm

I gather it with saw and carried it with arm

 

I piled it up on a summer day

Knowing that my work surely would pay

 

Rain the sleet came in the night

Temperatures fell to a create frightful sight

 

The furnace toiled all threw the day

At night the fireplace would have its say

 

Log after log were fed to give more heat

We gathered near the fire so sweet

 

Soon my wood began to dwindle

Consumed by the fire like a thief with a swindle

 

The ashes were cleared with special care

A dropped ember could give one a terrible scare

 

A new fire was lit and began to take hold

The warmth it gave was better than gold

 

Texas has snow, which is not a good sign

It stopped my sunning, for which I pine

 

My walks are shorter and require a coat

If a Yankee could see me, he really would gloat

 

A Texan on ice is not a good thing

But wait a minute I think I smell spring!

 

 

The Cold Professor

 

 

The Land of Ice and Snow

 

In my mind's –eye to my childhood I go, back to the land of ice and snow

 

A northwest wind began to blow to usher in a hint of snow

 

The grey clouds caused the light to fade, warning of things that would cover the glade

 

As the evening came to cast its pale, lights were seen as an amber vale

 

The restless city began its sleep, just as the heavens began to weep

 

Droplets of rain began to fall forming icy sheets to cover it all

 

* * * *

 

In my mind's-eye to my childhood I go, back to the land of ice and snow

 

The trees turned silver, giving off a glow just before it began to snow

 

The flakes came down a few at a time filling the landscape with something sublime

 

Deeper and deeper the whiteness grew; when it would end no one knew

 

As the hours slowly past, the constant wind gave another blast

 

A blanket of snow piled into drifts covering the ground in endless shifts

 

* * * *

 

In my mind's-eye to my childhood I go, back to the land of ice and snow

 

Ice and snow covered it all, it covered the wall and covered the lane; it covered the gravestones that gave so much pain

 

The air was clear as the night grew still; nature was showing her mighty will

 

Winter is time for nature to rest; for humankind it can be a seasonal test

 

In the silence of nature's great sleep; beauty does reign when the snow falls this deep

 

In this wondrous afterglow there comes a thought we long to know: What secret message lies within the falling snow?

 

So back to this land I shall always go, back to this land of ice and snow

 

 

          —The Professor