To Winter


I understand your essence,

that you cannot help yourself,

that Gaia turned her face away from Sol.

Is it a gesture? A way to give her succour?

You let her have a song to sing

while I endure the tempest?                            

Fickle Winter, you do me a disservice.


Sometimes, you are beautiful and show me

tiny miracles of light, prismatic splashes,

a rainbow tightly spiralled;

diamonds in the snow. But on the whole,

you are irascible;

bury me in bluster, turn my joie de vivre

to dust, reduce my lust to dance 

to minimal desire.


It’s hard to love a lover who enslaves you with caprice.

I dread each visit.

You begin to kill kinetic.

Why so cruel?

I curl away from you,

count away the days of your existence,

will the axis underneath our feet

to twist and shift your grip.


I accept I may be jaded.

A half-a-span relationship will chip away at cheer.

When we were young, I did not think you drab and drear.

I was eager for your mouth before the mists

and mellow fruitfulness began,

before the close bosom-friend of the sun

had thought to end.

I loved you more than Gaia did, back then.


But circles turn, life goes on.

Contempt was born of all the times we lay  

in lull and hush, in the perfume of our love.

And now it’s gone.

You gave your song to her to sing



I light a lamp for what has been,

close the curtains on a dream,

and sleep until you slip away from me.


Napowrimo 2019

◄ Helicoid

Speaking in Tongues ►


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Laura Taylor

Fri 26th Apr 2019 12:10

Yeh, ha.

I'm finally learning how to live with it. Not easy, when the deep dark hole is only ever inches away during the Big Dark.

Anyway, cheers Graham. I like this more today than I did yesterday.

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Graham Parker

Fri 26th Apr 2019 10:22

She has lead you a merry dance indeed, even if the tune is macabre at times, at least you are in tune with the steps.

I like the sense of frustration and yet you have not quite given up on her - yet

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Laura Taylor

Thu 25th Apr 2019 13:48

Day 25, Napowrimo 2019

Today's prompt: Taking a cue from from Keat’s poem ‘To Autumn’, write a poem that: Is specific to a season / Uses imagery that relates to all five senses (sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell) / Includes a rhetorical question, (like Keats’ “where are the songs of spring?”)

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