Ela Marie Poem by AFFAQ NABI

The cold wind whispers thru the valley's door,
Caravan of clouds rumble from rills to hills
Daffodils fade; their scents are lost once more,
Though their space is filled by the razorbills.
Ela Marie roams to gather the pale leaves;
To shield her heart from winter's biting cold.
The ice-bound caves fairly greet the gray seals.
The night descends, its duskiness taking hold.
Beneath the wintry-moon, green grass sleeps,
Pastures bare, upset shepherds homeward tread.
As chilly winds thru silent meadows sweep,
And life's soft hum is stilled, its warmth now fled.
O lieb, your lips grow pale in winter's breath,
Still, there is hope to make a deal, but not death.