Dreary winter days meander
pace themselves like cold molasses
sing their somber songs with candor
pressing billows through the treetops
mingle tingling snow with tiny, biting raindrops
Copyright © 2020 Abigail Gronway – All Rights Reserved
Winter. It’s not here yet, but it’s coming. Long before we learn to appreciate the lowered temperatures, we’ll wonder when it will be spring again.
Spenserian Quintilla
an American stanzaic form first recognized by Miller Williams in Patterns of Poetry
Stanzaic: may be written in any number of cinquains
Syllabic: 8-8-8-8-12
Rhyme scheme: axabb cxcdd, where x is unrhymed
Dark Side of the Moon 
Did you know honey doesn’t freeze? Try it!!
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You’re absolutely right. I remember now biting into desserts containing honey, and the gooey center oozing out. I don’t know at this point if I was dead wrong (as most likely I was), or if I was thinking metaphorically of the crystallized honey at the bottom of my jar. 😉
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I like that metaphoric solution. Very smart! ❤
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Thanks!
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Perhaps I should change the line to “cold molasses.” Rhyme is not a factor, and “cold molasses” has the same rhythm and meter as “frozen honey,” with the added benefit of being scientifically more accurate. Thank you, Jan. 🙂
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I wrote a Spenserian Quintilla.
https://revivedwriter.wordpress.com/2020/11/30/crawling-through-the-putrid-swamp/
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Very nice! And you captured 2020 beautifully, as well as the one true source of help: Jesus.
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