My Heart Belongs To Old Man Winter

The cold winter paralyzed life in Smithville.

The heavy snow sealed the ground with a crystal wrap as if it were ready to stay in the frozen garden for a hundred years.

A flake of snow in flurry thro’ the air

Had landed as a kiss upon my cheek: 

A secret message, just for me to share; 

To take to heart but never dare to speak

About or presuppose to other eyes

Your open feelings – distant though they are.

And so, upon your lips, my OWN surprise: 

A flake of snow returned from me afar.

Mark R Slaughter 2010

The cold earth slept below

The cold earth slept below;

Above the cold sky shone;

And all around,

With a chilling sound,

From caves of ice and fields of snow

The breath of night like death did flow

                

Beneath the sinking moon.

The wintry hedge was black;

The green grass was not seen;

The birds did rest

On the bare thorn’s breast,

Whose roots, beside the pathway track,

Had bound their folds o’er many a crack

Which the frost had made between.

Thine eyes glow’d in the glare

Of the moon’s dying light;

As a fen-fire’s beam,

On a sluggish stream

Gleams dimly—so the moon shone there,

And it yellow’d the strings of thy tangled hair,

That shook in the wind of night.

T

BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

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