Winter Gloaming

winter day poem

Poem

 

Winter gloaming has finally come,
Bleak, pale days and frozen white nights.
The leaves had whispered
From forest to forest
All through the endless summer days
That winter was just a rumor.
But their merriment
Was harshed by the first bitter frost,
Their fall color festivals were swallowed
By stinging storms of ice and snow.
The leaves are wiser now, and wordless,
Tucked tightly into their snowy bed,
Crushed by a cold deathly blanket.
They will rustle no more.
A dull, silver sun slides down
Behind the brittle rimmed horizon,
And is swallowed up by fog.
The Great White Night is near,
Lord of icy winds and snowstorms.
You cannot hear him coming,
His footsteps are soundless as snow
But his touch is death:
Flowers are devoured by frost
And cold spreads like poison,
Turns grass to spikes of ice,
Nothing can bear to stay
Where he blasts his bitter, icy breath.
There is no darkness in northern nights.
Light is shining all night long,
The bright night keeps watch
Over the glowing, moon-like world.
Brittle sun beams bounce off
The clouds above,
Brimming with unfallen snow
Until they burst and thousands
Of velvet frost-fractals
Come sailing gently down to earth.
Sunbeams, growing stronger by day,
Are flowing like white flame
Finding every frosty surface,
Licking it to set it alight.
The fog is chased away
Until I’m wandering through
An endless sparkling sea
Of tiny snow mirrors.
I’m a lone, cold traveler
Lost in time somewhere
Between day and night,
Marveling, even as it kills me
At this frozen world of white.

 

more by Lëaf Ednïwinga

photograph by Pk Aidoo

 

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Lëaf Ednïwinga

Artist, dreamer, coffee addict, vagabond traveler and world's most creative adrenaline junkie. I'm in love with poetry & dream to spend my days writing Steampunk fantasy, drinking tea & drawing what butterfly wings look like under a microscope. I have always been most drawn to writing about legends, whether that's retelling them or completely re-imagining them, because there is so much mystery and potential there. I believe that the most inspiration comes from our darkest days, not the ones where we are happiest, because if we are happy, we don't have much to write about. A few years ago, I spent over 9 months in Karaganda, Kazakhstan where I taught EFL during the day and wrote poetry by night. During that time I was at a really fragile point in my life, so writing was really my only escape. I wrote over 200 poems during my time there, which sparked my love of the genre. I don't follow any particular type of poetry or rules, I just write what feels right, sometimes all rhyming, sometimes only partially or internally rhyming, and sometimes not rhyming at all. Besides reading other authors' poetry, I am most inspired by Hans Christian Andersen's and Grimm's Fairytales, and well-written modern fantasies. I like a style that is reminiscent of Tolkien as well as fantasies that borrow a lot of material from preexisting fairy tales, folk legends and mythology. My writing strengths, as told to me by those who have read my work, are a great talent for visual description, especially in my poetry, for example, putting words together that conjure up vivid imagery in people's minds. I like to call that "word-art." I write about people's emotions, I describe feelings that they know very well but can't put into words, and that is why my writing is personal and easy to identify with. One by one, the poems come down From their flight on high Like so many wild, winging birds And alight on my paper, mine at last. To get chapters of my NEW Fantasy series Raven delivered to your inbox every Friday, visit Raven's webpage & enter your email address in the form! http://www.raventheseries.weebly.com Besides weekly chapter of Raven you'll also get: ~Exclusive Freebies, giveaways, discounts, gift cards, prizes, special offer, event tickets, and more!

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  • michelle morlan

    Wow this is just wonderful. especially love the last four lines; ‘I’m a lone, cold traveler

    Lost in time somewhere

    Between day and night,

    Marveling, even as it kills me

    At this frozen world of white.’

    Love to read your poetry and verse!