Saturday, 1 February 2014

Chill



Foul Winter stalks the autumn wood,
rips molten hues from branch and stem.
Chill zephyrs cloud the evening mood 
crowned with a stellar diadem.

An icy touch turns all to white
beneath a crystal sprinkled sky.
Before my face a ghostly sprite
hangs in the air as I walk by.

A chilling stillness seeps into
the marrow in my shiv'ring bones.
Where, once, the north wind, raging, blew
it creeps among the trees and moans.


Hunched up against such freezing might
I wander through the depth of night.

(C) 2014 Terri Richardson 

A Sonnet onWinter



1 comment:

  1. Hi Terri I hope you don't mind me saying but the type text you are using in this poem is very difficult to read even with my glasses on!! However I loved the poem.

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