Moss

January moss
nourishing the forest boughs
until the springtime

Drowning Season

this drowning season
winter submerging passions
the summer promised

Day’s End In December

the sun’s dalliance with this midwinter’s day
comes to nought as short hours slip away
into the dead December evening
where time is buried lost to grieving
night.
Night, moonless and forgetful night
wherein expectation’s hopeful lights
decay in the dark to entombed death
as year’s end’s scythe rips o’er the earth

Chandeliers

my winter’s reverie
a forest of chandeliers
each crystal dipped
ceramic chipped
in tears of ice
scattering moonlit rainbows free
across your lips
that moment before
their light fuses
us together
as one.

Older Poems #14 : Solstice

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.

Hope

after the snowfall
a last rosebud is revealed
hope is painted red

Sunday

beyond the gold leaves
yet to find oblivion
a red sun rises

Kiss

on winter’s cold lips
willingly the rose succumbs
to a kiss of death

Angel’s Fire, A Westward Sky in February

what peculiar light shines bright
beyond the darkened woods tonight
which angel of the evening’s fire
lays body broken on the pyre
and slain by winter’s armoured hands
to spread such light on its wasteland.

Fleeting

fleeting are these flowers

of winter’s final breath

silvered reminiscences

mementos, that it’s death

to which we all in seasons old,

and new just like the spring

must bless our days as sacrifice

and to its altars bring.