U3A Writing: Winter Memories
Moira Marchant, who was born in Newfoundland, recalls the winters of her childhood.
From dark and heavy clouds above
The first snowflakes drift slowly down
Gently brushing against my face
To leave it cool and refreshed.
As I stroll along the street
Nostalgic thoughts come into mind
Of childhood days spent long ago
On an island far away.
For months our little town was clad
In soft and deepest pristine snow.
Big icicles hung from roofs and trees
Glistening in the winter sun.
Our wooden houses had central heating
Also double glazing too.
Children sledged on hilly streets
And made snowmen which did not melt.
Horse-driven sleighs delivered our goods
And cars were few and far between.
Often the Northern Lights appeared
Curtains of colour in the darkened sky.
The long wide river flowed no more
Transformed to deep and solid ice
Strong enough to stroll across
And reach the forest, dense and dark.
Here the lumberjacks toiled hard
Felling spruce for the newsprint mill.
How I wish I could relive
Those happy days in unspoiled peace
Where winter beauty reigned supreme
On an island far away.
