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Mar 2013
Fresh was the morning atop the snowcaps lain,
Like crystal specks shimmering in the golden sun,
And tethered within the thick rocky-terrain,
It bounced its rays off of the peaks one-by-one,
These fragile ice-castles in their powdery-vale,
-Cradled the impact of the fallen hail.
The sun rippled sparks off the archaic Gneiss,
-Antiquating the gilded pool of beams,
The blooms were encased in a fortress of ice,
Sound asleep in their seasonal dreams,
The land embraced in the arms of father frost,
-Was buried deep and the ivory fields were lost! ©
Audrey Bautz
Written by
Audrey Bautz  America
(America)   
785
   Prabhu Iyer
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