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Tue, May 22 2012
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Yule

Lady Lissar

the trees
they reach their silver arms up to the sky
hoping for a glimpse of sun
yet the sky
cold grey
offers no solace
their roots are buried in frost
we crave light, they cry
suddenly
the sun cracks the sky like an egg
sunlight spills across the joyous trees
melting into every leaf
new life blooms

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Argue not with Dragons - for thou art crunchy and go well with Brie.

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Last modified: December 13 2011 14:31:48