Gates of Wrath

Treachery, thy name is Ice –

dangerous to foe and friends,

booby-trap, to be concise,

magnetized to bottom ends;

enemy to hip and knee,

baited ambush to my path,

pitfall to the fancy free,

enter in the Gates of Wrath.

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9 comments on “Gates of Wrath

  1. RoSy says:

    A slick picture & a slick poem!

  2. Debbie says:

    I used to deliver mail and those days of walking around on ice were treacherous! πŸ™‚ Be careful!

    • melodylowes says:

      That spot on the sidewalk I am avoiding – we continue to get nasty freezing rain, and it will be slick for a while – and forecast calls for snow on top of it – yikes!!

  3. Caddo Veil says:

    Another wow-wonderful poem, Melody–and I’m seriously praying for your safety on the black ice, clear ice, ice covered by snow ice! I hate, despise, detest, deplore and despair when we have ice–I have to walk up/down a little incline to the bank and grocery, so although I stay prayed up all year, I pray through clenched teeth in the winter ice! God bless you big–love, Caddo

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