Cold sunshine writes our elegy in frost,
Author of light a million snowflakes lost,
All gone forever into swirling air,
A dance of death that is no longer there.
Pure poetry becomes a stanza said,
Classical white a message left unread,
While we stand longing for a winter past,
Hurt by a mood that was too fey to last.
West is a shadow wrapped around frail bones,
Your hand in mine for eloquence atones.
Touch is a brevity that needs no sound
To turn the weather of the world around.
A wonderful expression of mood / atmosphere to this one, a very personal feel to it Thankyou for sharing Love duncan X
Dear Sandra, you are one of my all-time favorite poets and always will be. Thank you for this, so much! Esther : ]
totally captivating, and very fascinating imagery too.I'm surely a fan...thanks for this wonderful piece. take care, Rain
' Cold sunshine writes our elegy in frost, Author of light a million snowflakes lost, All gone forever into swirling air, A dance of death that is no longer there.' Amazing poem with nice imageries.
beautiful poem carved in the wordwork of your poem, cold and very warm...1st visit kind regards uavanice 1
The winter landscapes seem to lend themselves to your words beautifully Sandra. This was a wonderful illustration of such a statement. Tender poetry from your pen. Enjoyed. HG: -) xx
dear sandra, it has always been a pleasure reading you. i am glad that i found you on this site. keep on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a wonderful combination of feelings and... weather. I love all your poems where you describe seasons.