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
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.
ReplyDelete