Posted in 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.

Author:

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

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