Winter Maiden

Warm chinook come kiss the land,
Release the grip of winter’s hand.
With sweet scented breath of spring,
Warm fine fur and feathered wing;
Let surrounding forests sing.

Come to me soft winter breeze,
Rustling skirt amidst tall trees.
Pastel blue the winter sky,
Warm the eaves until they cry–
Frozen lakes and rivers sigh.

Walk on white and beckon green,
Radiant maiden seldom seen.
Gone as quickly as you come;
Golden greeting from the sun–
Ever, ever on the run.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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