Shifting snowdrifts piled high
Under the pale gray sky
Holds me prisoner between walls
Each time dreaded winter calls.
Shackled to my rocking chair
Naught to do but sit and stare,
Chained inside every cold night
I barely stay warm by firelight.
Allowed no exercise during the day
I surely can't go out to play,
Meals are measly and nothing more,
Because I can't get to the store.
I've had no visitors to my prison
Since this last storm has risen
And mail is being held downtown
Until the snowplows come around.
I've heard no welcome ding-a-ling
Because my telephone won't ring
Another human voice would sound nice
But the lines have collapsed under the ice.
I may as well forget going outside
There is deep snow far and wide
Blocking every highway and path
While I suffer winter's wrath.
I'm held a prisoner in my own house
Just me and a poor pantry mouse.
We'll be held here for days I suppose
Or until this hated blizzard goes.
I wasn't ready for winter this year
Nor it's icy freezing temperature
Now I'm bound in this tiny little jail
Until winter's ship finally sets sail.
©Written by: Kenneth J. Ellison 01-17-05
Song title: "Miller Of Drone"
Return Poetry By Ken
Join Mailing list For Updates: Subscribe