Sandhills News turns snow days into wordplay!

Drop an original poem in the comments for a chance to win $50 off any Sandhills News advertising package of $100 or more. All advertising includes a complimentary feature article. Sandhills News reaches the tri-county area of Moore, Lee, and Harnett, making this a fun way to show off your creativity and your business or organization.

Must be a family-friendly submission.

The poem must include snow or ice storms in North Carolina’s Sandhills.

Author must be connected to a business or organization.

Must be an original, unpublished poem.

Authors may submit more than one poem of any style.

The poem with the most likes on this original post wins.

Entries and likes must be in by February 15 at midnight.

The following poem is for fun, and it is not an entry in the contest.

Sprinting through the snow

“There’s nothing to do.”

“I’m bored.”

“Me too!”

“Take those kids for a walk.”

The dog yipped from the table. “Kid? I’m a Jack Russell; I’ll have you know!”

Carolina’s big snow was a loud, “Oh!”

“Khh, khh,” Mom hacked.

“Send ’em out back; they’ll play in the snow. I’ve got work to be done ’fore the power lets go.”

The microwave dinged. Popcorn sprouted, and couch cushions bounced without care.

“Share,” Mom passed the popcorn as the T.V. blared, “Knowing is half the battle.”

Buster’s arrow whizzed, and the tea set spraddled.

“I’ll see if G.I. Joe comes on again later.” Tommy clicked the remote. “I think it’s after Star Trek.”

“No!” Little Katie yelped. “That’s not next!”

“Mom. Mom! Katie said we’re watching Powerpuff Girls next, or she’s scalping me when I go to sleep.” Buster rolled off the couch and faux died.

“Three days of this. Khh, khh,” Mom nearly cried.

Carolina’s big snow was a loud, “Oh!”

Ben was ten and tall and declared, “I’ll march the whole time it’s on. It’s so lame.”

“What a shame,” Mom said as she led Katie to her suite with the king-sized bed and fifty-inch screen.

Shout. Shove. Something shattered across the living room tile. Ping! What? No backswing?No stomp. Not even a shout. Mom stood in grace or exhaustion. It’s hard to tell. But looking back, I say that’s when Mom sent away all rationale.

A Faustian smile eased over her face, and her mop-head hair fell into place.

Carolina’s big snow was a loud, “Oh!”

“What? That’s not fair! You never let us watch T.V. in your bed!”

We raced to her room, but Katie slammed the door tight.

Without a fuss or fight, Mom picked up her phone as more snow caked the boxwood branches.

“Ma Manchester,” Mom decreed with glee. “I’m walking to Mary Beth’s!”

“No! Ma-Nan will make us do chores!”

“And undo you and everything else, but I’ll have hours of relief,” Mom pulled down her hood.

“We’ll be good. We promise. We’ll keep Zoomer on the floor!”

Katie popped out: “They just said up to eight inches of snow!”

Dad’s garbage words filtered as he watched Mom go from his office window.

Her sprint tracked through the snow. How long she’d be gone? We told Dad we did not know.

Carolina’s big snow was a loud, “Oh!”

Jan. 29, 2026

Stephanie M. Sellers

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