Falls Cry

I hear your winds calling, as forests they sway
the chill of your breath, to soon come my way.
Your frost gently laying, upon once heated fields
the shimmers of mourning, my heart so it yields.
In longest of nights, as I dream the new dawns
I feed my souls fire, loves branches for pawns.
So wrestle I may, to keep far from your shiver
till flame is all gone, then, to core I shall quiver.

©~RRS, ~Outdoors2

Reviews

[Angel's Lady]

Your frost gently laying, upon once heated fields - a very descriptive line.

the shimmers of mourning, my heart so it yields. (did you mean morning?)

Very nicely written, very beautiful imagery. Great write.