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The Moonlit Hill

The snow is falling here again,
My feet are cold and mind is numb
I stir, my soul and body still
Yet, knowing stir is half a pen
On sheets of paper now succumb,
My thoughts so shivering to spill.

My coldness seeps to bones amen,
As prayers so slip on lips to plumb
The soul and reach of hearty will.
To know the winter life of men
In grasping that elusive crumb,
So wander near the moonlit hill.

Author notes

I am sort of in a melancholey mood,
The meter and rhymes I've atempted here are for fun.

Let me know How this makes you feel, what do you think?

    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
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Comments


  • Mirthryl
    March 5

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    Excellent meter, nicely rhymed (I especially enjoyed 'numb/succumb' and "plumb/crumb.")
    Excellent title. It sounds like a cold, quiet, long winter's night. As though a writer is searching for greater depth of understanding of "the soul and reach of hearty will" that existed in "the winter life of men" before his day, by "wander[ing] near the moonlit hill," though the night's chill has already numbed him to the bone. It is hoped he does not catch pneumonia!


  • suseann
    March 2

    Edit | Reply
    Suffering from brain freeze,you dear writer are NOT! Landslides on yonder hill,stay away from there! Ha! Congealed thoughts spur this piece actively. A fine piece of craftmanship.


  • Mistress Leala silver member
    March 1

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    Wow, awesome write, dear brother. It fits my mood as well. Great imagery, meter and rhymes flow nicely.