My Words, My World

First drafts – A few pages in the large wilderness of the world of writing

Archive for the tag “frost”

Winter night

A fingernail moon falls down the evening sky
and now the wind has dropped,
from a bluster to a breath
as the frigid night descends.

The trees, immobile in their submission,
silhouette against silhouette,
branches handing like the arms of the guilty
as the frost’s frozen fingers
freeze all they touch;
and even the church bells are subdued.

But lo!
A thousand firesides
lead like beacons in the night,
protesters’ torches in rebellion.

Cold is the winter night
but is vanquished by the hearth of home

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Goodbye, my sun

As the leaves burn brown
and rage in a riot of red
The low, winter light losing colour
looking tired and stretched
The sun’s early rising all but forgotten
another life, another time

The soltice shroud of darkness covers all
and the frost fingers;
hard and cold
grip the earth
And its frigid breath
bites the air

As the year ends in a flurry of colour

As the year ends in a flurry of colour

Once green world memory

Where be now the wind
that once blew?
Around the compass, all around;
south, east, west and north true.
Flag flutter memory
just choking on dust.

Where are you now rain,
that once fell?
Down from the heavens, drenching me;
downpour, shower, drizzle.
Umbrella memory
doesn’t dampen dust

You frost, cold and white,
that once lay.
Covering the fields, chilling me;
your kiss hard underfoot.
Winter boot memory
now walking in dust

And you the snow, you
fall no more?
Stinging my face, red cold my nose;
freezing, numbing my hands.
Sheepskin glove memory,
tracing in the dust.

From you the sun, where
can I hide?
From your lofty perch, glaring;
shrivelling, withering.
Once green world memory,
now turning to dust.

 

 

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