A Poem for Tuesday

My grandmother taught in a two-room schoolhouse back in the day when she had to keep her teaching aides in scrapbooks. If she'd had a laptop these poems would probably be long gone.

Snow in the Night

William Arnette Wofford

Silently as a ghost the deep snow fell

Throughout the long and lonesome night,

Until the barren meadows, hills and glades

Donned robes of ermine, blinding white.

It touched the poorest blade of glass and filled

Deep gullies, miles and miles around;

It gaily danced and swirled with phantom tread,

Shedding a radiance on the ground.

It softly spread its magic fingers on

The old house crumbling on the hill;

With eager feet it climbed the porch and crept

Through empty rooms, long cold and still.

No prying eyes saw its approach; no stars

Shone where it sped upon its way;

Yet everyone exclaimed in wonder at

The beauty greeting them by day.