Once Upon A Winter Day

I can say with no small amount of truth that I didn’t see this poem coming. To say it took me by surprise is an understatement, and I am truly trying to keep the tears from falling as I write this for you.

Today’s prompt was to write about a color and your memories attached to it. As I said…I didn’t see where this prompt would take me. I wanted to write about the color of the sky right before it rains and the newly leaved tree against that sky because those are my favorite colors. I wanted to write about all of the colors and how cancer comes in every color and my participation in The Color Run. But I didn’t. Instead, my mind went blank, literally. I saw white and then the memory of my first (and only until I became an adult) sighting of a cardinal when I was a little girl. A few years after, my life changed drastically and, though I still love winter and snow, the cold holds a different meaning for me.

I know it’s early but I believe it’s never too early to help. Many cities have places where you can donate blankets, warm clothing, food, etc. Please please please consider looking up a local charity and donating something, especially for the homeless and children. You can even call up a local public school to find ways to help impoverished families who need a hand. No one should go without electricity, water, food, warmth, medicines. Especially children.

Thank you.

xo Jesi


The Winter of Her Discontent

By Jesi Scott


Oh, the weather outside is frightful

But the fire is so delightful

And since we’ve no place to go

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow…


White white white;

Everywhere there is white-

Magic frosts the world

With a snowy blanket.


It doesn’t show signs of stopping

And I’ve brought some corn for popping

The lights are turned way down low

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow…


The numbed air begs for warmth

From a neglectful sun that hides behind thick clouds-

“Not today,” he says,

And goes back to bed.


When we finally say goodnight

How I’ll hate going out in the storm

But if you really hold me tight

All the way home I’ll be warm…


Her small blonde head stares out the window at the bird on the post,

-Blood red spot on moldering brindled brown against whispery wintry white

Change is coming-

A single cardinal her omen, her personal Hermes, bearing a message from the gods:

“Be ready,” they say, “Prepare for the worst.”

She looks up at the sky and

sees uncertainty hanging from the eaves.


The fire is slowly dying

And, my dear, we’re still goodbying

But as long as you love me so

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow…