Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
Winter pokes its head above the parapet,
with flinty eyes surveys the waiting world,
when weather news speaks of coming snow,
white flakes falling in the window’s future.
Will we wind the blankets a little tighter,
wait with bated breath the creeping cold,
watch while temperatures be daily falling,
wish we in warmer climes were to be found?
Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 12.05.23
Prompt: Write a poem whose lines all begin with the same letter.
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