The air is fresh, the snow is deep,
The moon is heigh, the forest sleeps
A couple dances soft and low
The moon watches the two below
With no want nor care
They see their breath in the frosty air
No coat or blanket to keep them warm
They continue to dance in uniform
Twirling, swaying, dipping, whirling
They danced with ease
They did as they pleased
No song to hear or music chant
Their rythem paced as if there were
Off in the distance a wolf would cry
A nighten gale twitered in the sky
Marked the approach of sun's dawn
View User's Journal
Poetry and other thoughts
 |
Peace be to thee that finds peace in one's self
