Winter Landscape

A poem about waiting.

The ghosts of cattle standing, silent spectres
Their breath attaching to the hoarfrosts mist
And all the silent countryside in subtle splendour
Held in winters petrifying kiss
And time itself is held to winters hand
And holds itself in readiness for when
Winter, judging that the world has slept sufficient
Nods her consent for spring to start again

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Fabulous imagery in this little poem Bryan, of the harsh winter landscape. A welcome relief from this week's stifling and debilitating heat, I might add. I for one am always pleased when winter gives that nod to spring. Spring is my favourite season. Have a good Friday.

Chris

[Bryan Sefton]

I agree, that's when I come alive. I have,always been a spring person. Have a marvellous day.