Winter War
A poem to show that winter is not all gloom.
As Jack Frost has his wicked way,
He lowers her temperature with his sleaze,
Digests her gown of golden leaves,
To crush them by his icy hand,
And cover, white, the Motherland.
As migration and wander lust,
Flee the march of frosty crust,
She digs in to hold her ground,
To the fanfare of the Robin's sound,
Her holly, blossoms in denial
To old Jack's winter burial.
With wind, rain, snow and ice,
Jack throws himself into the fight,
Saluted by the thundering drum
And bugle call of winter storm,
He holds not back, from the attack,
That lays his white coat deep and thick.
As shadows cast his longest night,
Retaliation is his plight,
The Lady's staunch defiance holds,
To slowly melt his winter cold,
A snowdrop bursts to bloom his splendor,
A rally call to the defenders.
As old Jack's forced into retreat,
His snow and ice rearguard does creep,
To slither stealthily with the thaw,
And encamp upon the mountain top.
A rainbow hails the golden sun,
The Summer Lady's fight is won!
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