December Feathers

December took the form of an angel
spreading wings of icy violet across the snow
her hair rivers of wind amongst the pines
brushing murmuring shadows afterglow, sable soft,
trees of feathery Night grew inside the fields where heavens slept
( singing a miraculous tune )

in a world of images, voices of incessant cacaphonies breed.

A little cold to blunt the ragged edges of awful oblivion Love
cannot recall the drowning seas of sad, lost faces and ships
without crews clog the harbors, surface waterways hiding
from nothing and everything that would be yet is not,

December wrap me in your wings and fly I pray
far into the hidden words of verses thought to sing,
writing icy violet within the lines
your hair rivers of wind amongst the pines,

( trees of feathery Night )

Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2012-12-12 at 14:15

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Lilly Negoi
this is a beauty :) the description of winter is wonderful and "trees of feathery Night" will follow my memory for a long time now :)
and that stanza about the "ships/without crews clogging harbors" breathtaking.

"a world of images" indeed . . . beautiful and evocative, a sense at first of revelation, the way December light can illumine things, but then the third stanza is true too, "everything that would be yet is not." Very well done.


Dear Ghost, Loret.
by Chaucer Whethers