Beauty as it walks
Beauty which does not stalk but walks upright, gathering thrall
Beauty made for ballroom and applause, some unsaid aplomb
Beauty as it talks, deigning listen
Straining to hear her whispers
Quiet as the night before Christmas
Convincing myself November is the kick I need
Who plays such cruel tricks on me but me
Conceding embarrassing defeat, laying my blade at the leader’s feet
Sleep my only keeper, my sole deliverer
In meaningless dreams fumbling with a ring of keys
Door I am keeper thereof
Poorer, deeper therefore
Cold gnawing faraway thawing, drivers leaning on horns
Winter’s new forms, new frosts exhausting silvered Cairngorms.
Alchemisland 
Leave a comment