The cold is king beneath the trees
its mighty court hung with snow
winter on the throne of frost
nature bends to sovereign reign
I am it’s subject as is my love
walking close arm in arm
painted trails are our path
reverentially draped in white.
Audience is asked by two
nobility please hear our plea
to warm our hearts at time of hoar
the white and gray surrounding us
we need the comfort of the warmth
far beyond the brace of clothes
seeking heat found in pure bliss
when congress finds the celebrants.
Drape our bodies in cloaks of rime
we’ll find our warmth in the contact
as you bless us now exempt
from Jack’s attention as we fuse
the trumpets echo in forest’s realm
voices share our joy combined
not to stay, this moment’s hold
our majesty was in your court.
2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20170107.