Nature Photography Nature Poetry

Icy Fire

When the artic winds come roaring in,
Like a lion lit with icy fire,
And nature burrows into its slumber,
That’s when I awaken.

Hemmed in by the crowds of summer,
Swollen in the heat and ease,
Finally, I break free, bursting over icy meadows,
Surging over roaring lakes,
While they all huddle by the fire,
Spurning the frosty days,
I pray, oh how I pray,
For the frigid days,
The solitude and peace.

The cold is my companion,
Razor sharp winds my shield,
As I glide over the frozen field,
So when the snow comes, do not despair,
For it’s the ice that comes to make all things clear.

By James Vespoli

Writer, Photographer, and Managing Operator of Wild Cape Press LLC

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