Winter’s tales

Photo ©Lewis Collard


In the north,

ice floes sail,

compact glitter,

trailing their cold embrace

through the glass green ocean.


Glistens the sun

on frost in winter meadows,

and the waning light

in rolling tears

when no one is there.


Cold wind carries the restless leaves

gathered in the earth’s lap,

where blackbirds sort the living and the dead.


All dead, the flowers,

glowers the cloud,

shrouds their remains,

chains of frost bedeck their bed,

dead winter’s feast,

least of all the sparrows shiver.


This poem was written using twitter prompts; a stanza for each prompt.


Fresh breeze rises from the sea,

Pushing clouds to crowd the light,

If only you were here with me,

I would not fear the coming night.


Stars and comets fall like rain,

Rivers run with bloody glare,

I wish that you could feel my pain,

Compassion warm your icy stare.


You turn into the warm embrace

Of sunlight and another’s arms.

I wish I’d never seen your face,

Nor fallen foul of your sweet charms.


Wolf pads silent on your track,

Moonlight falls in silver eyes,

Vengeance strikes when night is black

And traitors pay for honeyed lies.


Last clouds shred in wild wind’s roar,

Ripples break in starlit gleam,

Shards of moon on ice-rimmed shore,

The wolf is calling, yet you dream.


Birdsong greets the dawning day,

But you’ll not wake to see the sight.

Seawind blows it all away,

White wolf and I are for the night.