MARBLED SKIES

 

Marbled skies of broken cloud

Coloured with blues and greys

In the frosty air of winters bite

The marbled skies of winter days

NICE

 

Making your way in life, it’s nice

To know you can, once or twice

Rely on other people in a trice

For assistance, guidance or advice

 

They’ll be no shortage of advice

But knowing what piece or slice

Of advice or guidance will suffice

You might just as well roll a dice

 

This axiom though it be concise

Won’t be bettered to be precise

So, you take heed or pay the price

“Don’t eat yellow snow or ice”

JACK FROST

 

On the north winds edge

Jack Frost rides the icy crest

And winter follows

WINTER HELL

 

The lake is frozen,

Nothing lives

In this frozen hell

Even the sky is desolate

Save for the crescent moon

Standing sentinel

THE FIRST FLURRIES

 

The first flurries of the white, 

Began to fall at twilight

Though until the dawn

So, by the next morn

Everything lay below

A carpet of fresh white snow

WINTERS GRIP

 

The snow has settled on us

Like a shroud.

Each day growing deeper

Silence fills the emptiness of the landscape

But for the ghostly sound of the wind

High in the treetops

The meadows and fields have vanished

The river flows mute beneath the ice

The next valley is unreachable

The mountains as unattainable as the Moon

But soon spring will release the land

From its icy captor

And the winter we be no more

Then remembered conversations

Beside the roaring hearth

CLOAK OF FOG

 

A thick winter cloak of fog

Settles deep into the valley

Making everywhere anonymous

Obscuring every lane and ally

And for those poor souls abroad

Found it was not a night to dally