The Ice Queen

The snow falls lightly

Upon the silver crown

Atop her slick black tresses

Her black eyes

Are cold

Beady and piercing

As they stared straight ahead

Not one ounce of emotion

Shown

 

The train of her long, silver skirt

Flowed to the floor

Pooling around her feet

Her skin

So white

It looked like glass

Glowed in the moonlight

Her perfect heart-shaped face shining

And yet there was no trace of a smile

 

Unearthly

And fairy-like

She was

As she rode in her sleigh

Her sharp chin stuck out

Her purple lips pressed together tightly

Her eyes narrowed

 

And then the light hit her

The first light of dawn

The churchbells were ringing

The people were waking

It was morning

 

Droplets of sweat

Ran down her forehead

As the sun rose

Very slowly

She could feel her power slipping

Her triumph flying

 

And then she ran back

Into her palace of ice

Wrapping herself with snow

And the cold

Returning to the darkness

Her sanctuary

Her home

 

Her chin is out

Her eyes piercing but empty

She is regal and fine

Her head held high

Her shoulders back

A true queen

 

A queen

Of snow

Of the cold

Of darkness

Of bitterness

Of emptiness

Of ethereal, unearthly beauty.

 

The Ice Queen

 

 

Reviews

[Egao-onna]

I really enjoyed the juxtaposition of her demeanors, how at one point she is aloof and powerful, and the next cowering in fear. The imagery was also quite lovely :)

[Eric Cox]

Very cool. Excellent imagery. Cool pen upon this poem.

[_]

WOW! THAT WAS SO PRETTY! I LOVE QUEENS! GAH! SO PRETTY! :D

[Crystal Marie Rome]

Amazing! With the way you described I actually got chilled.