When The Wicked Winter Comes Poem by Lycia Harding

When the wicked winter comes
seeping past the wards she keeps,
she looks on as he succumbs,
thanking God it's while he sleeps.

She finds she is ill prepared
when the wicked winter comes,
to let go the life they shared.
Anguish swings its pendulums.

Heartbreak's endless requiems,
rites for which she dearly pays,
when the wicked winter comes,
blight her solitary days.

Tears remain behind her eyes,
years maintain the interums,
yet she still finds pain's surprise,
when the wicked winter comes.