WINTER WOLF

 I saw this beautiful illustration online today, and felt its winter wolf inspire me, impel me, to compose the following lines in its honour.

WINTER WOLF

White wolf of winter, of starlight and icicle,

Padding softly through the silver trees in blue frozen haze,

Its chilling breath swirling, curling, a smoke of sudden snowflakes,

Its frosted fur sparking and shimmering in pale, pellucid scintillation,

Its azure eyes imparting a glacial gleam of cool frigid fire.

It turns and gazes at me as I stand before its mesmerising presence,

Resistance is futile, is fickle, submission is solace, is all.

I never suspected that death would be so subtle, so silent.

But then the bright sun filters down from the treetops,

Down through the branches to where we both stand.

And the winter wolf vanishes -

A spectre swept past-ward,

A dream dreamed and done with,

A shadow extinguished,

A vision discounted.

The snow keeps on falling as I retrace homeward,

The winter wolf's footprints my lone steadfast guide,

I still hear its howling, its heartbeat, all round me,

I still feel its cool chilling breath on my face,

And know that one day it will come, it will find me.

And I shall be there, shall be waiting anew.

SNOW CAT

A few moments ago, while browsing online, I came upon the exquisite painting reproduced above, and within my mind the following lines sprang into being, engendered and inspired by its strange beauty.


SNOW CAT

I felt the swirling flakes of winter surround and embrace me,

Enfolding me within their soft, chilling shroud of silence and death,

As icily mesmeric as the cool, purring caress of a snow cat.

SNOW DREAMING

One of the most mesmerising figures in fantasy literature must surely be the Snow Queen as conceived by Hans Christian Andersen. Here is my tribute to the alluring, illusive kingdom of snow and its bewitching, pitiless monarch.

SNOW DREAMING

A wilderness, white and unending,
Lay waiting, my soul to enfold,
As softly its slim, chilling fingers
Froze even my whispers with cold.

Its shimmering mantle draped slowly
My ankles with starflakes of snow,
While winds from the chateaux of Winter
Sent billowing murmurs of woe

Through clouds each suspended from Heaven
O’er landscapes enveloped in white,
As faintly a polar sun flickered –
A candle of shivering light.

And ever the icicles glittered,
Like pendants transparent and cool,
And ever the visage of Winter
Laughed softly through crystalline pools,

While snowflakes drew pale, bitter petals
O’er window, and garden, and door,
As slowly my steps led me onwards,
But only a nothingness saw.

For grimly the blizzard lashed downwards –
A phantom as chilling as Death –
As ever I strove to avoid it,
To turn from its glacial breath.

But Winter’s pale wraiths sang out softly,
And slowly their song drew me on,
Till, howling, the winds quelled their music,
And when I looked up, they were gone.

Yet there, in their stead, just beyond me,
The Snow Queen stood, calling my name.
To struggle was futile, was useless,
As ever approaching she came.

Her arms stretched out glowing towards me,
Enticing me nearer to Doom,
As, frozen, my spirit lay dormant –
A ghost in a windowless room.

Her eyes laughed in terrible silence,
Cold diamonds of shimmering blue.
And closer I stumbled towards her,
As stronger her influence grew,

Till spectres of snow loomed all round me
Like phantasms shapeless and pale,
Enshrouded in misty grey mantles,
And spangled with gemstones of hail.

Then softly a Voice spoke beyond them:
“Walk on – to your world, and your home.”
The sun shone forth strongly above me,
A beacon from Heaven’s bright dome.

And when I looked onwards, the Snow Queen
Grew wan in the sun’s holy light
Until, like a great mournful shadow,
Her form passed away from my sight.

And silence once more lay behind me,
Retracing my vanishing track.
And ever the sun led me onwards.
And nothing again called me back.