The Shadow Lion
Like a roar
winter pounces,
the clouds
of March
torn asunder,
in ragged edges
of petal, pearls,
steel
and grey,
for hail
bombards
the treetops,
the fields
and edges,
abandoned
towns,
frozen in
emptiness,
across the cold
of dawn
and day.
For April
hides
behind distant
mountains,
her sunlight,
shattered
in splintered
shards
of ice,
and rain,
for spring
is held
in winter’s grip,
the call
of east
and wind,
until her dream
kisses
and awakens,
summer’s blossom
born to be,
in warmth
and light
again.
Feel free to contact me. Be nice to know who my audience is and perhaps you can suggest some further topics or themes for my writing! And do give me feedback!
p1964km@googlemail.com
