Frost Chills Poem by Cat Hodgson

Frost Chills



Frost Chills

Chills run bone deep as a new bard steps from shire
His mystic demander cloaks all his path sires
Painting the meadow with ice laid deep
Covering in shadows making nature weep

Leaves scatter and shy deep in the corner
All fall into a yawning sleep, from his porter
Once heavy and fruit boasting now bare
Burrowed deep in crevices everywhere

Swishing and blow the wind tries to help
But a nuisance itself we cry with a yelp
There is no stopping this muse as it flows
Oh my heart! No ones to know where it goes

Frost has taken this land for his own
When you walk steps crack like a bone
Endure we must his tactic a while
It's all in this season it's a harsh kinda style

© cat hodgson

Friday, October 31, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: autumn
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