The blessed frost insists on biting hard,
the first this Christmas time to stalk below
ground, like hungry wolf-packs with icy yards
of teeth - the burn their Arctic breaths bestow.
Disruption cleaves the land like shards of glass
between the ribs of life to harpooned cell.
Each tree and every cowered blade of grass,
projects bristling glimpses of frozen hell.
Deeper still, must living coils undoubted grow,
if not, the spirit crisps to filigrees
of sugar mesh, that melts to slush like snow,
once vibrant heat is raised by quick degrees.
We fools who wouldn't listen-up, in time
exposed, returns to school the ocean prime.
Author notes
Hadn't quite finished my effort in time, so thanks for extending the date.
A contest entry
- Filigree by Pamela A Lamppa.
1750 points, ended December 17, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
Filigree inspires sonnet. I love the idea of frost with filigree and I enjoyed the images presented in this poem.
"The land disrupts with shards; like shards of glass"
I think you could have made this line a bit stronger by not using the same word twice. Perhaps:
The land disrupts with heaves like shards of glass"
or something to that effect.
Still a very good entry to this contest. Best of luck in the judging. ~Pamela
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