In the Gallery

snowy branches

 

Winter’s brush, with frozen bristles

Decorates the thorns and thistles –

Weaves her words to paint a spell

That beautifies the weeds as well

As ever Solomon was dressed

In kingly robes and royal crest;

Her art, expressed in silver tones,

Becomes the flesh to drape bare bones,

Makes beautiful the cold mundane,

Declares the glory of her reign.

I, who humbly view her show,

Am lured, enraptured by the snow.

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Prison Break

shinyicicles.jpg

 

One day sun will melt the bars,

Open doors and mend the scars,

Free your spirit from your chains –

Winter’s just the labour pains.

Doing the Math

sprucebranch

 

And so we wait,

Wind crunching numbers

Multiplying grievance, dividing winter

Days into fragmented ticks of a frozen clock.

In addition, only the sum total counts;

But the square root of snow

Is a water molecule,

And so we wait.

Shine On

frosty sunflower

 

Shine on, little one,

though your petals crack 

with cold and icy 

shivers lick hungry

at your tender throat.

*

Shine on when Arctic

winds whisper white lies,

slanderous icebergs

distorting your image,

warping your purpose.

*

Shine on when frosty

tentacles deaden

pulse, sluggish sap-drips

creeping in dead-end

veins, maze of the damned.

*

Shine on despite cold

that hounds, ferocious

predator alert 

for signs of weakness,

patient for the kill.

*

For your name is Light.

Your breath blooms as warm 

sunbeams. You were born

to spin straw into

gold; so shine, shine on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Great Reversal

frosty trellis

 

Where once a green and virile vine

Twined its length upon your frame,

Frost has thrust his hoary head,

Icy claws have staked their claim.

*

Do not lose hope as Winter’s grip

Sinks fangs of doom into your heart;

Where once his frozen work remained,

Spring’s greenery will grow her art.