Winter’s white wash ©

When fogged white land scratches the sky

Two worlds become one, no beginning or end.

From peaks where eagles soar

unsure, uncertain, above, below

laden twigged bushes shiver with cold

Naked woods clamber, evergreens stood tall.

In open fields, hares hop about

While Doe and Deer scratch around

As if the Lords of this icy land.


Structured vineyards stand to attention

Keeping order in their rows

Guarding through frost and snow

Holding posts, waiting to grow

As horses hide in any shelter,

Chimneys smoke, puff and bellow.


Meanwhile, mouse yawns in his hidey hole,

Unaware of cold unknown

For it is not time to hunt and seek,

Winter is the time for sleep!


©Do not copy and edit, or reproduce without permission from the author (Abelia May) and full acknowledgement of the author (Abelia May) and website address

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