Covid Snowchild
Listen to David's poem ...
That winter of snow
there was nowhere to go,
so grandad was left on his own,
he stood and he froze
from his carroty nose
to his toes‒ and he felt all alone.
But on one moonlit night![]()
grandad woke to the sight
of a snowchild, they had a cold cuddle,
which so melted his heart
that here’s the sad part‒
all that’s left of them now is a puddle.
there was nowhere to go,
so grandad was left on his own,
he stood and he froze
from his carroty nose
to his toes‒ and he felt all alone.
But on one moonlit night
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grandad woke to the sight
of a snowchild, they had a cold cuddle,
which so melted his heart
that here’s the sad part‒
all that’s left of them now is a puddle.
This poem is copyright (©) David Bleiman 2024
About the Writer
David Bleiman
David is a grandfather and poet living in Edinburgh. He loves to write across the languages and his first pamphlet, This Kilt of Many Colours (Dempsey & Windle, 2021) is a multilingual mixter-maxter in English, Scots, Spanish and Yiddish. This celebration of David's Jewish heritage includes the prizewinning Trebbler's Tale, written in a partly excavated but largely reimagined lost dialect of Scots-Yiddish. With the sense of humour of an overgrown schoolboy, David is now writing childish poems for himself and other children.
