3rd Sonnet To Christina Poem by James Mullaney

A snowy lodge lay nestled in the hills
where fragrant spruce pine scorched a fireplace;
a frosty crust whipped at the windowsills
and twilled a veil contrived of icy lace.
So placidly the firewashed cottage twinkled
amid the bluish draughts of virgin snow,
that in a-crept a pine mouse, wintry-wrinkled,
to warm him by the phosphorescent glow.
'Berime, ' the mousie mourned, 'a Princess fair,
'for whom enchanted knights at yuletide pine.
''Twas then save locks of golden heathen hair
'she deliquesced per crystal flakes and fine.'
The mouse evokes a glassy patina -
Of sturdier stuff is made Christina.