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About This Author
A changeling spirit,
constantly evolving,
revolving around an inner core,
spinning forth legend and lore,
stories and lives
as I come to grips
with who and what I am,
have been and may be.
I am a phoenix:
rising ever above and beyond!
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SnowAngel Locked between eons, sideways from time
captured where snowflakes tangle in rhyme--
Caught in a plexus between here and where
there sits the SnowAngel—frozen and fair.
Ice crystal feathers from finely arched back
contrast with her gown; velvet and black,
Moonsilk tresses, eyes of ice blue--
she patiently awaits for time to sweep through.
As minutes creep by and seconds fly
she hears the call;SpringMaiden’s cry
and knows her time to waft nears end
for grounded now, no strength to mend.
No regret, no tear doth fall
she knows she must heed the season’s call.
'Tis time after all, that controls the beat
of winter’s winds and summer’s heat.
Somewhere off beyond the trees
where lamplight cannot quite yet see
SpringMaiden dons her lilac gown
and scatters snowdrops on the ground.
Twin sisters pass; share a word or two.
Each has her time, her chores to do,
Err Prince Summer comes and sends Spring home
The SnowAngel retreats to northern home.
Until such time yet again comes round
when the SnowAngel dons her new white gown.
Which shall, as time wears on, turn grey
then fade to black err she flies away.
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© Copyright 2013 fyn (fyndorian at Writing.Com).
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