A Companion Piece to ‘Sheba’s Cottage’.
EDGE OF WINTER IN SPRING WOOD
Winter forays with silent ease,
only icy chills reveal it’s intent,
the woodland to quickly freeze,
unopposed, now summer’s spent.
Spartan branches to me reveal
slim faint lines of crystal white,
where frost now starts to steal
all the colours from my sight.
This bitter Virus starts to take
for itself this once lush space,
a kingdom of Cold so to make,
with frost Drape Trees like Lace.
Neither plant nor tree can resist
the tireless invader’s steady march,
though still all forest life does exist
below the sheet of glacial starch.
With a glance at the sugared path,
ever weaving amongst the Trees,
I realise that all Winter’s Wrath,
which spirits away the leaves,
could not ever lay to waste
the Wood, with it’s snow or rain,
for always will it be replaced
when Spring returns again.