Author's Notes: My first poetry in a long, long time. I wanted to make it conform to a very strict style- the ballad, as I decided- and to try and get some old-English words in there.

Hope you like!


Winter's Ballad

Each day long fingers draped in ice
Advance a little more;
The sun resists the minutes lost
But cannot long endure.

The very air is frore and still-
The sky spreads wide and grey-
And dusk embraces sunrise as
They chip away the day.

Above, dehiscent clouds grow dark
And sow their crystal seeds;
On earth, the ground is creeping pale,
And winter's touch proceeds.

A transformation soon begins
As limbs are painted white,
And browns and greens become with time
A land of glass and light.

No whisper can degrade this scene,
Nor human touch profane
The beauty as the snow descends
To kill what leaves remain.