Snowflakes fall, a silent lullaby,
Blankets of white beneath twilight sky,
Bare branches etched in frost’s sigh,
Cold winds weave through the night,
Stars alight, crisp and bright,
Warm fireside light,
Frozen plight,
Deep night,
Still.

candle in the window
for the son of a widow
now left orphaned, save

for a bejewelled crown
whose issue once secured
now stands a former flame

for want of royal surrogacy
where an uncle demurred
now twice an heir found


candle once in the wind
on a window sill still, sits
once, always the people’s princess