poem idea

The Solstice Comes

bleeds the holly scarlet red
inside the woodland’s verdant green
its lifeblood flows from ivy dead
the pulse beneath this winter dream

upon the naked frost kissed boughs
a silence roars beyond the night
and chilling air from jaws aroused
denies the solace of the light

and so the darkness holds its court
that seems eternal in its run
but even this black season’s course
is given promise of the sun.