Throughout the afternoon I watched them there,
Snow-fairies falling, falling from the sky,
Whirling fantastic in the misty air,
Contending fierce for space supremacy.
And they flew down a mightier force at night,
As though in heaven there was revolt and riot,
And they, frail things had taken panic flight
Down to the calm earth seeking peace and quiet.
I went to bed and rose at early dawn
To see them huddled together in a heap,
Each merged into the other upon the lawn,
Worn out by the sharp struggle, fast asleep.
The sun shone brightly on them half the day,
By night they stealthily had stol'n away.
Claude McKay was born in Jamaica, he was educated by his older brother, who owned a handful of books, he went to the United States where he used poetry to record the injustices of black life in America.
This is one of my favourite pieces of writing about the snow, may be it takes a West Indies climate to appreciate the beauty and the sadness of it.
This weekend I was in the town and country and the scenery was equally beautiful in both.
The a sprinkling of snow is the perfect finishing touch to white London town houses, which always remind me of perfectly iced cakes.
