There she sits alone with a hefty growl,
lifting up her skirt with a screeching howl;
Coarse strands of hair streaming from her head,
she appears like a scarecrow crawling from the dead.

Always fearing life beyond her own dominion,
her voice was stern when shouting her opinion;
That raspy sound brought children to their knees,
this care-worn woman rarely aimed to please.

For a sad and solemn story caused her ruin,
left abandoned years ago by thoughtless kin;
Having lost her only son--a casualty of War,
retreating from the world was her only cure.

The destiny of those who've been affected,
by reckless chances taken through objections;
Have cost the souls of others waiting back home,
who'll only touch their loved ones--carried to their tombs.

There go the wild and eerie sounds of zephyrs,
translations stirred by birdsong in the air;
Listening closely for the eager signs of Spring,
where love and beauty take away our cares.

Crushing branches fall without their blossoms,
with cursed winds defying what we seek;
And blushing roses lose their winsome petals,
which float along a dark and dismal creek.

Winter's soul abandoned on frosty evergreens,
a crystalline mix of snowflakes drifting down;
Yet now its Muse reflects the complex corridor,
projecting mirrors of sunshine's brightening crown.

Our hearts combine their deep and wise conclusions,
that every single change shows Nature's way;
To cast its mystic aura throughout the Cosmos,
where sweet innocence and wonder rule the day.

The days of thunderous applause denied me,
without 'honorable mentions' placed beside me;
Rampant chaos reaped within my hungry soul,
urgently follows a route from sensibility's role.

In loathsome words defining what's ahead,
my beating heart revives its chance to shed;
The multitude of tears which cast a shadow,
which falls across my face in muted sorrow.

For when dawn arrives beyond the grassy hills,
awakening the callous world from winter's chills;
I crawl from my bed and watch in fascination,
beseeching heavenly claims for my rejuvenation.

The fame and fortune sought from worthless gestures,
can stumble through with weak and thoughtless answers;
And doubtful questions posed from privilege and pride,
will forego the righteous path to humility's side.

Our spirits will rise up and rejoice,
when inner voices cry out to be free;
Challenging the 'status quo' of lies,
longing to shine a light on what we see.

Putting words into action is not a game,
when calming raging hearts with humanity;
We seek to master change by good intentions,
as we claim our right to act on this insanity.

Flowing from the deepest well of kindness,
we power through the work God has arranged;
To send the force of evil to the hell fires,
and generate possibilities of love's refrains.

Despite our doubts we struggle forth with faith,
remembering how the world overcame such plights;
And holding out our hands to touch the infinite,
our spirits launch sheer strength from day to night.

Along the path of righteousness,
rising notions that are limitless;
Promote the lights of love and cheer,
rejecting minds that live in fear.

Inside a world that's mostly gray,
someone will come to show the way;
Into a place which comforts all,
where spirits answer worthy calls.

Among the shadows that reappear,
are those which conquer souls from fear;
And when the road seems quite insane,
a friendly shadow takes the reins.

My shadow falls across the land,
preparing me to take a stand;
To help the lowly victims of,
the evil which destroys all love.

For when the dreams of angels die,
a second shadow fills the sky;
And empty hearts will soon recover,
with vows to cherish one another.

February snowfall displays its beauty,
in frozen alabaster petals from the sky;
Falling delicately they paint an ornate picture,
which reflects its luminosity from on high.

The winter world spins gently as it weaves,
a glowing tapestry of gossamer angels' flight;
The glory of the heavens speaking volumes,
as the sweeping winds call out to their delight.

Suddenly the steely sky brightens overhead,
as the moon appears and shows its pearly face;
To give honor to the goddess known as Amethyst,
with the crystalline shine of royal purple's trace.

Any moment now deep slumber will arrive,
with the dreams of nightfall and its wintry grace;
Where God's angels warm the spirit in abundance,
and soothe all hearts in a memorable embrace.

Phantoms drawn from the waiting hills,
devoid of notions unfulfilled;
In silence breaks their worrisome thought,
which contaminates every sacred plot.

At ease the dance of dawn alights,
caressing strains of fortune's might;
And with the chill of subsequent fears,
sing softly then slowly disappear.

The mountains shed an early snow,
which captivates in the daylight's show;
Then morning and night become the same,
toward the inner caverns of the waiting game.

As if in a trance the hours slip by,
where no one rests and no one cries;
Forever grieved these phantoms try,
to escape their fate borne from the sky.