Colinxxx
Winter
Nature naked, vulnerable, in the shades of dark clouds,A bittersweet euphoria, clings and surrounds her waiting.
The cry of Winter sings, surrender, to my cold snap and ice,
Here, nothing can flourish, hide away, sleep until spring.
Animals find sanctuary in their places of warm comfort,
Far away from this cold and dark passage of time.
The birds flew south long ago, and yet, others arrive,
For Winter in England is not as harsh, as other places.
Why Winter? Why this realm plunged into darkness?
Long dark days, no colour flourish, or sweet scent to arouse you?
Black still trees, whose canopy has been thrown away,
Snow softens the edge and nostrils fill with heady cold.
The essence of white and frost, refreshing and silent,
The crunch beneath, turns to slush, as the rain warms again.
The smell of sweet decay, and chimney smoke of pine logs,
Hot soup and comfort, within our castle walls pleasing.
To stand or sit and watch nature sleeping, yet, waiting,
For that is the truth of Winter, we wait for new life.
And life shall come, and lift us, high again once more,
Yet, the cold, still bites, as we pull the scarf even closer.
And the snow falls gently, silent, as Winter commands.
Colin Skilton
Poetry by Colin Skilton
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Editors' choiceWritten on 2008-11-13 at 23:04
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Kathy Lockhart |
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Editorial Team |
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Phyllis J. Rhodes |
