‘Winter’ ~ ‘The Magic Hour’

 

VIOLET CUTBILL POETRY ~ ‘The Magic Hour’

winter 1 sheep-in-winter-by-tracy-helgeson

ART : ‘Sheep in Winter’ ~ Tracy Helgeson

~~~~~

‘WINTER’

Winter has come! He broods with glistening wings

Upon the mountain’s bosom, bare and grim;

The storm, the racing icy-bladed winds,

The hosts of Death, Decay and Change ambushed

In rear of him.

VIOLET CUTBILL TELEPHONE BOX 2

*

Winter has come! For those

Great silences that preclude his wild reign

Already fall. Destruction lurks in them:

The hurricanes enchained. The fury

Of the elements is there confined.

*

Winter has come! Beware! He broods no more

With outspread pinions, motionless upon

The summit of the mountain’s drear and lone.

He stirs! His voice is heard! Himself transformed,

winter a

*

Sceptre in hand, he mounts, in power, his throne.

Loosed are the storms and loosed the angry gales,

Whilst night with tumult loud is filled, confusion

Of conflicting powers and warring elements.

winter 2

*

The hills, the booming thunder, light’ning

And the driving sleet and hail, Nature’s upris’n!

High Heaven in revolt, pouring on the earth

Supine his vial of wrath.

*

Louder the conflict grows, while lightning stabs

The trembling earth with many a ruthless spear,

And thunder rolls his cannons across

The fields of Heaven.

*

Yet morning sees tranquility

Descend, although the scars of war still mar

The scene, ~ the forests ravaged by the winds,

And from the hills, the life-blood gushing

In a thousand streams; while plains that once were filled

With golden grain, lie prone beneath the flood’s

Rapine.

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*

So pass the days of Winter’s reign,

With treacherous interludes and sunny days

Dispersed between, o’er hill and dale his sway

Supreme; while Ocean, with hoarse voice, his rule

Acclaims, and bows to his stern will.

*

Yet Winter’s power shall wane. The storms shall have

A resting place, the raging winds a home.

Destiny hath limits set, and Death shall find

A tomb. For One shall come, whose subtle wiles

Shall call forth from somber earth the wreathed smiles,

Melting her frozen heart to tenderness;

*

ascension part 4 - art-greg-spalenka-Bouquet

ART : ‘Bouquet’ ~ Greg Spalenka (Left)

~~~~~

The while sweet Joy is born. And with Joy, Song

The triumph of returning Life, the wonder

Of the Spring!

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

 

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